


Beyond Understanding

by RaeDMagdon, Revans_Mask



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adventure, F/F, Magic, Magic Cock, People Who Annoy Each Other to Lovers, Phobias, Rare Pairings, Romance, Smut, Snark, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 71,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3738811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Revans_Mask/pseuds/Revans_Mask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herah Adaar is pretty much the hottest woman Sera has ever met.  If only she wasn't also a spooky mage.  Cassandra has never met anyone as simultaneously alluring and infuriating as Morrigan.  Will a trip to ancient ruins help all of them to work out their problems, or just make things even more complicated?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's another collaboration between Revan's Mask and Rae D Magdon, probably a little bit longer than our last one. Enjoy!

Sera made her way through the ballroom of the Winter Palace, weaving through the gaps in the crowd. Even though she had just helped the Inquisitor stop an assassination attempt on Empress Celene, it wasn’t difficult for her to remain unnoticed. She was only an elf as far as the rich sods were concerned, after all. As long as she averted her eyes, she blended right in with the servants in spite of her uniform.

It also helped that everyone’s attention was still fixed on Empress Celene and Briala. They stood on the balcony overlooking the dance floor together, a united front against Corypheus... and still as pompous as ever. Sera let out a short huff of annoyance through her nose as she made her way up the nearest set of stairs. She didn’t have any patience for nobles and their problems, even when helping them benefitted her.

She found herself wandering over to a less-crowded portion of the ballroom, sticking to walls and dark corners. Although she didn’t want to admit that she had a destination in mind, she couldn’t deny that she was looking for Herah. The Inquisitor had disappeared after the start of the Empress’s speech, and even though things were awkward between them, Sera felt the sudden desire to see her. They had almost died fighting Duchess Florianne. It only seemed right to check in.

You’re a shit liar, she thought to herself as she began peering out the nearest windows, trying to see where Herah had gone. You don’t like how you left things. Don’t like how bad it’s been since… since Adamant Fortress.

Being sucked into the Fade had changed everything. It was full of magic, demons, and monsters too large and dangerous for arrows to do any good. Full of things she didn’t understand, and didn’t want to understand crawling around in her head. Weeks later, she still couldn’t get rid of the scratching of the demon’s voice. And every time she looked at Herah, she remembered…

The sound of two people speaking just beyond an open doorway made her halt in her tracks. She tucked herself behind one of the tall blue doors on instinct, keeping the edge of her shoulder just out of sight and leaning forward to listen. One of the voices was familiar. Herah. Bright, cheerful, and surprisingly posh for a qunari. “Welcome to the Inquisition, Morrigan. We’ll be glad of your help.”

Another voice spoke, darker this time, like smoke from a dying fire. “A gracious response. I shall see you at Skyhold.”

Morrigan swept out through the double doors, and though Sera scrunched up her face and shot her a disapproving look as she passed, it went unacknowledged. It was something that Sera already knew she hated about the woman: the way she acted as if everyone was beneath her. It was hardly the only thing though. There was also her stupid fancy dress, and her dumb mage job in Orlais, and, worst of all, the fact that Herah seemed to admire her.

Herah belonged to Sera. Well, okay, she didn’t. Not really. But she definitely shouldn’t be making eyes at some tall, dark, and slightly scary mage. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth as she walked out onto the balcony. She found Herah leaning against the railing, gazing out at the palace gardens where they’d been fighting for their lives only a little while earlier.

The way Herah looked in her uniform wasn’t fair at all. The red doublet that emphasized her strong shoulders and full breasts. The extra inch the boots added to her already delicious height. The... oh, hell, all of it. Horns to toes, she was the best looking woman Sera had ever met, and the feelings that stirred up mixed with her apprehensions into a brew she couldn’t figure out what to do with.

Herah turned to greet her, and the smile on her face made Sera temporarily forget she was supposed to be annoyed. “Quite a night, huh? We saved an empire and reunited wayward lovers, all before desert. We even picked up a new recruit. Celene is sending Morrigan to liaise with the Inquisition.”

Bet that’s not all she wants to liaise with, Sera thought. She shook her head. “Great. Another bloody mage. Thought we had enough of those already.”

“Hey,” Herah objected, a flash of real hurt appearing on her face. “I don’t think we’re as bad as all that.”

Sera hesitated. Herah knew that she was uncomfortable around magic, but not just how on edge it had made her ever since Adamant. Sera wasn’t sure how to tell her that. What had happened wasn’t exactly her fault, even if it was her mark that had dragged all of them into the nightmare of the Fade.

At last, she settled on, “Well, at least you’re not.”

“Glad to hear it.” Herah stepped away from the balcony and reached out a strong hand to Sera. “C’mon, you owe me a dance before the night’s done.”

She pulled back slightly. “Dance? Like with all the rich pricks watching us, and thinking we’re dumb little people, ‘cause we don’t know any of their stupid waltzes and stuff?”

“Who cares what they think? We saved their empire tonight and now, I want to dance. They don’t have to be here for that.”

Sera took her hand, trying to suppress the conflicting emotions she felt. The thrill of their skin touching warred with her apprehension at being so vulnerable to Herah’s magic. She had thought she could handle this. It was why she had started flirting after joining up with the Inquisition. Why she had even taken the chance to steal a few laughs and kisses when she could. But ever since the Fade, ever since she had seen what Herah was truly capable of...

Herah was anything but a little person. She was larger than life, and not just literally. Sometimes, it almost seemed as if she was fated to save Thedas with powers Sera couldn't begin to understand. Powers she wasn't sure she wanted to understand.

But then Herah's fingers laced with hers, turning their palms outward. A warm hand settled at her hip. Soft brown eyes stared down into hers, and her heart flew up into her throat. Sometimes, when she looked into those eyes, she was certain she saw more than just “The Inquisitor” there. She saw a person. A person she couldn't help admiring. Maybe even loving. A soft breeze swept through her hair, tickling the back of her neck, and it felt as if everything outside of Herah’s arms was very far away.

"I'm not much of a dancer," Herah admitted as they started to sway back and forth. A few lines of music drifted in from the ballroom, but their bodies didn't keep time with it. They followed a rhythm all their own, moving in slow circles beneath the stars. "I've always been a bit clumsy, to be honest. When you're this size, you tend to bump in to things..."

"No excuses, Inky," Sera said. Her face softened a little as she caught a glimpse of the garden below. "Even the trees down there are dancing. Look."

Herah turned to look, and Sera felt a warm glow start in her chest when a smile spread across the qunari's face. "The garden does look much prettier when we aren't killing people in the flowerbeds, doesn't it? Hey, I think I see a few arrows sticking out of that tree over there..."

Sera scoffed. "'Are you trying to say I miss, Inky?" she said, pretending to pout. "Besides, you're not one to talk, yeah? Bet I can find a few scorch marks up in the branches. How d'you aim those fireballs anyway?"

Herah cleared her throat in embarrassment and turned her away from the garden with a surprisingly expert twirl. That left Sera with nothing to look at except for the Inquisitor's face. And despite her doubts, it was still one of the most beautiful sights she could imagine. On impulse, she used their laced fingers as leverage and pushed herself up, standing on tiptoe to reach Herah's lips. Herah bent the rest of the way down, and their mouths brushed together. Warmth blossomed across her face, spreading all the way out to the tips of her fingers and toes...

Sera, Sera, Sera... If you shoot an arrow at me, I'll know where you are...

Darkness. Nothingness. Scratchings in her head.

The Fade - Demons - Magic. Things she can't kill. Things she can't understand.

She pulled out of Herah's arms with a swift breath of fear, yanking her hand away and stumbling backwards. "I... I just need to... I can't..." She bit her tongue to stop her stammering, eyes darting from the garden to the ballroom. Neither seemed like a good escape route. And part of her still didn't want to escape. Herah had felt so good in her arms, pressed against her. So good until she remembered that the woman holding her was one of those things she didn’t understand.

“Hey,” Herah asked, her brows furrowing, “Did I do something wrong just now?”

“No, you didn’t. I… I’m sorry, Inky. I’m just sorry.”

Before Herah couldn’t say anything in response, Sera spun around on her heels, running off of the balcony and taking refuge in the curious crowd that had gathered just outside. If only it were as easy to hide from her feelings.

***

“May I say what a pleasure it’s been to meet a charming beauty such as yourself, Lady Pentaghast? It is my sincere hope that we may continue our conversation on some later, and more private, occasion.”

Cassandra tried to avoid letting her annoyance show on her face. This was the third attempt at courtship she’d had to deal with that evening, and she suspected there would be more before the night was out. Being one of the only members of the Inquisition who was of noble birth made her far too enticing a target for every Orlesian looking to hitch their wagons to the new rising power in Thedas, and she was nowhere near as skilled as Josephine at dealing with the attention.

This latest suitor, with his nasal voice and overly elaborate manners, was especially irritating and she was trying to think of a reply that would get rid of the Marquis de Lockanne for good without causing an incident when she was preempted by the sound of another, huskier voice.

“She’s not going to marry you, Marquis, so you might as well resume making drunken passes at the servants. At least they won’t stab you through the bowels if you ‘accidentally’ grab their posteriors.”

The Marquis turned around, audibly swallowing at the words. “Lady Morrigan. I’m not certain that I heard you correctly…”

“Yes, you did. Now leave. I have actual business to discuss with Lady Pentaghast and little enough patience.”

The nobleman opened his mouth as if to say something, but a dark look from Morrigan made him think better of it. Instead, he slunk off with a final affected bow and a string of muttered pleasantries, leaving Cassandra alone with his tormentor.

“My thanks,” she said to Morrigan. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing in particular. I simply assumed you desired to be rid of the man, and I’ve been wanting to say something of the sort to him for a long time. He made a similar proposal to me when I first assumed my position at court, which might have been more flattering if it had not been directed at my chest.”

It was, Cassandra had to admit, a very impressive chest, and one that was nicely displayed by the low-cut red gown the apostate wore. Before she could fall into the same trap that the Marquis had, however, Morrigan continued. “In any event, he will not be my problem for much longer. On Empress Celene’s orders, I will be accompanying the Inquisition back to Skyhold when you depart.”

Without meaning to, Cassandra let out a little snort. “So I have heard.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Morrigan asked her. “‘Tis not as if my assistance is worthless. Your enemy is a master of ancient magics, and there are none who have delved deeper into such mysteries than I have.”

“I’ve been told something along those lines,” Cassandra said. “Among other things.”

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. “Really? And who is it that has been offering these opinions of me?”

Cassandra clenched her fists. There was something about the entitled way the other woman asked her questions that set her nerves on edge. “Leliana,” she replied curtly. “The two of you adventured together with the Hero of Ferelden, I believe.”

Morrigan gave her an impassive nod. “We did, although Sister Leliana was never especially fond of me, even then. I would not trust everything she says.”

Her gaze hardened, boring in on the apostate. “She says much the same about you. She claims that you never join a cause without an agenda of your own. See to it that whatever yours is in this case, it doesn’t cause the Inquisition any trouble.”

Only the subtle narrowing of Morrigan’s eyes gave the impression that she was annoyed by the unflattering judgment. Her full lips pressed into a thin line, and the pulse at the base of her pale throat sped up ever so slightly. “The only way you will find yourself in trouble, Lady Pentaghast, is if you make yourself an inconvenience to me. I understand your mistrust. I’m sure I would feel the same in your position. But I do not suffer fools gladly, and it would be foolish of you to anger one of the only mages in Thedas capable of offering you the assistance you so desperately need.”

Although the comment made her bristle, Cassandra had to admit that Morrigan made a good point. The Inquisition needed allies, not enemies. And she suspected that Morrigan would be an incredibly dangerous enemy to have. She sighed, dipping her head in a small attempt at reconciliation. “Of course. I’ll see to it that Lady Montilyet prepares for your arrival at Skyhold. The Inquisitor often forgets to take care of such simple tasks. Not that I can blame her. There is a war in progress, after all.”

Morrigan’s smile returned, although it was anything but friendly. “Yes. And I suspect it is far more interesting than the banal conflicts Thedas so often finds itself wrapped up in. Never fear. I have no desire to see my home destroyed. I will offer what aid I can - and that aid is considerable.”

Before Cassandra could respond, Morrigan swept past her, offering a teasing glimpse of the bare flesh beneath the nape of her neck. Apparently, her dress scooped low on both sides. “I’m certain I will see you at Skyhold. Hopefully our next meeting will be more cordial. I can be friendly, if I wish. Until next time.”

Cassandra continued staring long after Morrigan had disappeared into the crowd. Instead of reassuring her, their brief conversation had only managed to convince her that Leliana’s judgment was right. Although Morrigan could certainly prove to be a powerful ally, she was also someone Cassandra would keep a careful eye on.


	2. Chapter 2

Cassandra pinched her forehead with steepled fingers, resting her other hand on top of the table for support. It was only mid-afternoon, but she was already exhausted. In addition to her own duties, she had spent the morning receiving reports from Cullen's soldiers. She sympathized with his decision to stop taking lyrium, but it meant she had to take over some of his responsibilities.

She hadn't even been able to find time for lunch before the next setback would hit. Everyone in Skyhold seemed to have something for her to do, or something to complain to her about. Vivienne had requested a larger budget to assist in 'civilizing' the fortress. Cassandra had directed her to Josephine, but before she could get back to work, their diplomat had asked her to meet with an important Nevarran noble in residence. She had barely escaped in time. Even Solas had left his creepy underground study and ventured to the war room to complain to her about Cole... again.

"All I want is an hour. Just one hour with a practice dummy and no interruptions." She turned her eyes upward, staring plaintively at the ceiling. "Maker, is that too much to ask?"

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, Cassandra. I've been asking for the same thing for the past several months, and my prayers haven't been answered yet."

Cassandra turned around, and a slight smile crossed her face as she noticed the Inquisitor standing in the doorway. Herah was the only member of the Inquisition with a to-do list that was even longer than hers. "Ah, Inquisitor. I'm glad you're here. I need to speak with you about the latest reports from Cullen's men."

Herah left the doorway and approached the war table. As she drew closer, Cassandra noticed a worry line creasing her forehead. "Shouldn't Cullen be telling me about this? Where is he? I haven't seen him at all today."

"He couldn't leave his study." Instinctively, Cassandra glanced towards the door to make sure no one else was nearby. She didn't want to make Cullen's private struggle public, although she was certain several people already suspected what was going on. "He wasn't feeling well earlier. Fever. Nausea. Chills. I stepped in on his behalf."

Herah's worried look mirrored her own. "Do you think I made the right decision, encouraging him to stop taking his lyrium? If he can't work... if it's making him that sick..."

"He can," Cassandra insisted. "I know him, Inquisitor. Cullen is strong enough to do what needs to be done. This is just an especially difficult day."

"I’ll trust you on this. Maybe I can go check on him later? If he's feeling that bad, he could probably use a friendly face."

Herah made as if to turn around and leave, but Cassandra held up her hand. "Actually, I have something to discuss with you. The reports from Cullen's men were stranger than usual. One of the units in the Western Approach shared news of magical ruins near the central plateau."

"Magical ruins? Corypheus isn't going after them too, is he? Just yesterday, Morrigan told me his forces were focusing on the Arbor Wilds."

Cassandra's frown deepened at the mention of Morrigan's name. The mage had only arrived at Skyhold a couple of weeks prior, but she was already making herself at home. Cassandra couldn't even stroll through the gardens in the evenings anymore for fear of running into her and being forced into another unpleasant confrontation. _On the other hand, perhaps she would just ignore me. Our dislike of each other mutual, and she doesn't seem the type to waste words on pointless conversation._

"I don't know if Corypheus has focused his attentions there or not,” she said to Herah, “But Venatori mages have been spotted skulking around nearby. Maybe the site has attracted his interest."

“How important do you think it is?” Herah asked. “I’m sure these ruins are interesting, but we don’t exactly have a lot of free time these days.”

“I am no expert, but they certainly are different than most of what we’ve encountered thus far.”

“What is different?” Cassandra’s head turned as Morrigan swept into the war room. The witch had inserted herself into their councils from the moment she first arrived at Skyhold, just one among her many irritating presumptions. Another was the outfit she had taken to wearing, a ridiculous, loose-hanging top that practically forced everyone she met to look at her breasts.

“Oh, we were just discussing some strange ruins in the Western Approach that the Inquisition’s troops came across,” Herah told Morrigan. “Cassandra suggested taking a closer look.”

Morrigan let out a small sigh. “Another diversion, Inquisitor? Need I remind you that Corypheus is preparing his move in the Arbor Wilds even as we speak? That is what we should be focused on.”

“We’re not ready yet,” Herah replied. “We’re still gathering our forces.”

“Then perhaps you should tell your general to work harder,” Morrigan remarked. “I’ve scarcely seen Cullen since we returned from the Winter Palace and he would not be the first former Templar I’ve met to be remiss in his duties.”

Cassandra bristled at the insult, both on behalf of Cullen and herself. “I regret that everything isn’t to your satisfaction, Lady Morrigan. Perhaps Commander Cullen has better things to do than stroll in the gardens and insult the work of others. And at any rate, this is important. There could be significant magical power in these ruins, which I would hardly deem a waste of time.”

That seemed to pique Morrigan’s interest. Her cat-like eyes lit up, and the smile on her face could only be described as hungry. “Magical power? Of what type?”

“We’re not entirely sure,” Cassandra told her, albeit a little reluctantly. She didn’t like admitting to gaps in her knowledge, especially to someone who was likely to exploit them. “Just that it’s old, and that the Venatori seem to be interested.” She studied the expression on Morrigan’s face with a considerable amount of caution. The eagerness there made her extremely uncomfortable. “But if it’s your _expert_ opinion that the situation with Corypheus is too urgent to wait for the rest of our troops to assemble, we can head for the Arbor Wilds instead.”

If Morrigan was annoyed by her sarcasm, it did not show on her face. The only hint that she disapproved was a slight twitch of her full lips as her smile faltered. “Actually, I’m inclined to agree with you, as unlikely as that might seem. If there is something of significant power in these ruins, Corypheus cannot be allowed to get his hands on it. Since we cannot move against him until the Inquisition’s forces are ready, investigating the source of this power might be a worthwhile use of our time.”

Cassandra gave Morrigan a hard stare, but became distracted when Herah cleared her throat. “Since we seem to have a rare point of agreement between you two, I guess I should get started organizing our trip.”

“That would be wise,” Morrigan said. “And if you don’t object, Inquisitor, I would like to accompany you there myself.”

“I thought you prefered to remain in the castle and make rude comments while others did the real work?” Cassandra snapped. A part of her knew it was unprofessional, but the witch had a way of getting under her skin that even Varric was hard-pressed to match.

“This is far more interesting than your usual excursions to deal with brigands and barbarians,” Morrigan told her, her voice dripping with condescension. “I have greater expertise with ancient magics than anyone else here. You may have need of me.”

“Sure,” Herah agreed. “I’d like to get a look at you in action anyway.”

Cassandra opened her mouth to object, but Morrigan beat her to it. “Then it’s decided. Inform me when you and your party are ready to leave Skyhold, and I will accompany you. With luck, we can use whatever we find in these ruins to our benefit.”

That statement only added to Cassandra’s unease. Morrigan had changed her mind too easily. Perhaps she wanted to claim whatever had Corypheus and the Venatori were interested in for herself, or maybe she had an even stranger purpose. Either way, she resolved to keep whatever they found in the ruins well out of Morrigan’s grasp. “I insist on accompanying you as well, Inquisitor.” Her eyes left Herah and slid back over to Morrigan. “The best way to handle evil mages is with a swift sword.”

Herah’s head shook softly in disapproval, warning her to be polite, but eventually, she nodded. “Fair enough, Cassandra. You were the one who first took the reports. But if you and Morrigan are both coming, I expect you to get along. Can you work together without the constant passive aggressive remarks?”

“I wouldn’t call threatening to skewer me with a sword passive, but yes,” Morrigan answered. “I have a great deal of experience tolerating the presence of fools on expeditions like this. You may remember that Alistair was also one of the Hero of Ferelden’s companions. Compared with him, Lady Pentaghast’s company is almost enjoyable.”

Cassandra pushed away from the table, fists clenched at her sides. She had been willing to tolerate Morrigan’s rudeness, her pride, and even her overly-revealing outfit, but listening to her belittle Alistair was too much. “Alistair was a greater person than you could ever be, for all your ambitions. He sacrificed his life for us! I won’t hear you speak that way about him, whatever your grievances with me.”

Instead of matching her anger, Morrigan seemed almost subdued. A look of surprise crossed her face, and… was that a flash of pity she showed? Sadness? Cassandra had her doubts, but her next words seemed to confirm it. “I wasn’t told of that. You might not believe it, but I am... sorry… to hear of his death.”

Silence stretched between them for several moments. Cassandra gave up trying to get a read on Morrigan’s emotions. The mage’s brief flash of humanity had vanished as quickly as it appeared, and she still wasn’t certain of what she had seen. “I accept your apology,” she said at last. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should go and prepare our supplies. We should leave soon, perhaps as early as tomorrow morning. We’ll want to deal with these ruins quickly, before Corypheus’s forces finish converging on the Wilds.”

“Agreed,” Herah said, seemingly relieved that their argument had ended so quickly. “Take the rest of the evening to prepare, and I’ll see the two of you early tomorrow. And Cassandra? Please check in with Josephine before you go. She was looking for you earlier.”

Cassandra did her best to hide her disappointment. “Of course, Inquisitor. Goodbye.” With a smile for Herah and a stiff, subtle nod in Morrigan’s direction, she exited the war room and stepped out into the hall. Unfortunately, leaving Morrigan’s presence did little to soothe her turbulent emotions. She wasn’t even entirely sure of the reason. The cruel comments about Alistair had bothered her, but they weren’t the only source of her anger. 

_It doesn’t matter why she upsets me,_ Cassandra told herself as she headed for Josephine’s desk. _I don’t have to like her. I only have to keep her alive long enough for her to help us. Then, she won’t be my problem anymore._

  


***

 

Herah let out a long sigh as she settled into her chair at the Herald’s Rest. The room was filled with happy people, drinking and singing, and she hoped being there would take her mind off of her troubles. “Give me a Ferelden stout,” she told the tavern keeper, putting her aching feet up on a nearby bench, “And keep them coming until I tell you otherwise.”

“Long day, Inky?”

She turned her head in time to see Sera vault down the staircase and land a few feet away from her, wearing the little crooked smile that Herah found so charming.

“You don’t know the half of it. Vivienne was fighting with Dorian over the color of the throne room drapes, Cole kept stealing Solus’ books for reasons he still won’t explain, and I had to look over a pile of new threats from Leliana’s agents. Plus, I had to pack for this expedition I’m off on tomorrow.”

“Heading where, then?” Sera cocked her head, the motion emphasizing the line of her long neck. She was often heedless of her own sex appeal, but Herah found that only increased it. There was some natural and unaffected about Sera that definitely rubbed her the right way.

“Oh, just these weird ruins in the Western Approach,” Herah told her. “There’s supposed to be some kind of strange magic going on there, so I figured you wouldn’t be interested in coming along.”

Sera’s aversion to magic had been obvious to her since they first met. Nor did it exactly come as a surprise. Herah hadn’t grown up under the Qun, but she knew that if she had, she would’ve been condemned to a life in chains simply for possessing her talents. Even in the rest of Thedas, mages were often detested, and a qunari sorceress was an especially fearful sight to many of the people she came across. Still, it was one thing to frighten some Ferelden peasant and another to provoke that reaction in someone she cared about. Every time Sera pulled back because of something Herah couldn’t control or change, it hurt her.

“The worst part,” she added, “Is that Morrigan and Cassandra are going to be with me, so they’ll probably be bickering all the way to Orlais and back.”

Sera scrunched up her face, giving Herah a disapproving look. “Both of them? Why’s that?”

“Morrigan wanted to take a look at whatever ancient artifacts we found, and then Cassandra insisted on coming along as well, though she didn’t exactly say why.”

“That so? Guess I’m coming too then,” Sera declared.

Herah’s heart swelled a little at the demand. She knew Sera didn’t exactly want to go on this trip, and the fact that she was insisting on doing so anyway felt important. It was clear that she reciprocated Herah’s feelings. The eager glances, the dirty jokes, and especially those delicious stolen kisses all made that fact abundantly clear. What she didn’t know was whether that attraction would be enough to overcome Sera’s fears. If only she could find some way to break through the shell of mistrust and prove that she was more than just her magic...

“If you want,” she told Sera, trying not to seem too eager, “I’d love to have you with me. I mean, I was going to bring Varric, but he’s been complaining about needing more time to finish up his next book anyway.”

“Heh, gives Cassandra something to read when she gets back,” Sera quipped.

Herah laughed along with her. The reminder that Cassandra loved not just Varric’s books, but the cheesiest and dirtiest of them, never failed to bring a smile to her lips. “True enough. What about you, though? What makes you want to come along on this little trip?”

“Gonna be weird magic there, yeah? And Morrigan. Don’t trust her around that shit. Or around you. Gotta keep an eye open.”

Herah tried to sound cheerful when she said, “Well, it’ll be good to have to have you watching my back,” but inwardly, she cringed. Apparently, the only reason Sera wanted to come along with her was because she trusted another mage even less.

“You’ll need me, yeah? Don’t want to fall through another hole in the world and land back in the Fade. Right?" Sera gave an awkward laugh, but it wasn't enough to hide her nervousness. Her hands twisted together, and she sucked on the inside of her cheek, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Herah's first instinct was to reach out. Before their trip to the Fade, she had rarely seen Sera afraid. Excitable, energetic, occasionally even manic, but never filled with the stiff energy that only came with fear. Now, it seemed as though it followed Sera like a shadow. It broke her heart to think that she had been part of the cause. "Sera." She stood up from her chair and stepped closer, moving slowly to make sure her presence would be welcome. "If I had known what would happen at Adamant Fortress, I never would have taken you..."

"No." Sera's eyes narrowed to slits, and she folded her arms over her chest. Stubborn anger replaced the fear, but Herah could sense that it was still there underneath, a frozen stream covered by the hard ice of her eyes. "Had to be me there. Couldn't be Solas watching your back, could it? Egghead was starin' about, looking all slack-jawed at the monsters like he wanted to be their friend. And Cassandra. 'Maker this, Maker that, Maker, why am I here?' Andraste can't save you from that many teeth. Had to be me, Inky. No one else saw it like it was. No one... except you?"

The question was hesitant, almost shy, a complete contrast with the brash way Sera usually held herself. Herah reached out, cupping one of Sera's shoulders beneath her large hand. "What do you mean, no one except me?"

"I mean..." Sera's eyes darted to the side, and she sighed, shaking her head. "Dunno what I mean. But you were scared too, right? You didn't come out of there all hunky-dory. Pretending everything was normal... it hasn't left you, has it? The teeth. The nothing. The... the emptiness that wants to eat you up inside. Like they haven't left me."

As hard as she tried, Herah couldn't summon a response. She still wasn’t sure whether Sera was just afraid of the Fade, or of her as well, but at least in that moment, she seemed open to comfort. More than open. She seemed to need it desperately. Carefully, so she wouldn't overstep a line, she removed her hand from Sera's shoulder and opened her arms for a hug.

She breathed out a sigh of relief when her guess proved right. Sera flew into her embrace, knocking hard into her chest and wrapping her arms in a tight circle. Herah hadn't known a tiny elf could hug so tight, but she didn't mind the slight discomfort. It felt good to have Sera close again. It felt good to be the source of her comfort instead of her fear. This was the way it should have been all along.

"Sorry," Sera sniffed. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but Herah couldn't make out any tears trying to sneak through. The only sign of her distress was her shuddering breaths. "It was just... I was just..."

"This won't be like the Fade," she said, stroking down the middle of Sera's back. "Promise. From what Cassandra's told me, it's just another mission. We go in, find whatever strange artifact the Venatori are after, and smash it to bits."

At last, Sera opened her eyes. A broad, uneven smile stretched across her face. "Good plan. You toss it up, I'll split it with a few arrows. Unless it's stone or something. Then we might need fireballs."

Hearing Sera joke about her powers lifted some of the weight from Herah's chest. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe there was still a chance for her to prove that she wasn't the same as the things that haunted Sera's nightmares. Since they were still in each other's arms, she figured her chances had to at least be better than she had feared. "We'll both shoot it. Fair?"

Sera stepped back, although their hands stroked together as they parted. "Fair. So... packing, yeah? And you said Cassandra's going with you."

Herah nodded, turning suspicious. "She is. Why?"

"Just thinking..." A mischievous smile crossed Sera's face, and an evil glint replaced the fear in her eyes. "Thinking about what sorts of fun things I could slip into her pack while she isn't looking. It'd be good, right? She reaches in tomorrow, looking for her rations or some water, and ends up pulling out bees. ‘Cause bees… always hilarious.”

She fought down her urge to laugh at the thought, but a smile still turned the sides of her mouth slightly upward. “It probably would be, but let’s show some restraint just this once.  Cassandra’s already going to be in a bad mood from dealing with Morrigan. Let’s not make it worse.”

Sera gave her a disappointed little pout but when she turned to leave, she still favored Herah with an enthusiastic, “See you tomorrow, Inky,” and the Inquisitor smiled at her departing back.  Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

The glare of the Western Approach’s sun was intense, but it scarcely bothered Morrigan. Her elemental magic shielded her effectively from the heat, but unfortunately, it couldn’t deflect other irritations so easily. Behind her, Sera was yammering on about some inane matter, apparently having to do with a cake she once stole. With her inappropriate jokes, boundless enthusiasm, and taste for sweets, she was rather like a cross between Zevran and the Warden’s insufferable hound, neither of whom Morrigan missed.

Nor was Sera the only person wearing on her nerves. Cassandra was a capable warrior, and she didn’t prattle on endlessly about nonsense. Compared to most of the members of the Inquisition, she should have been a most agreeable traveling companion. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

“Must you keep staring at me?” she demanded when she noticed Cassandra’s hazel eyes drifting back over to her once more. “‘Tis not as if I am about to make off with the good silver.”

In response, she got an annoyed snort. “Petty theft is the least of my concerns.”

Morrigan lifted an eyebrow, fixing Cassandra with a suspicious gaze. “And what, precisely, is it that you think I am going to do?”

“If I knew, it would be simpler,” Cassandra replied. “As you are so fond of reminding us, arcane mysteries are your specialty, not mine. For now, I will just have to remain observant.”

“Then I suggest you observe me more quietly. This trip has been more than long enough already.”

“You were the one who spoke first,” Cassandra pointed out.

Herah’s horse wheeled around, leaving the two of them staring at a countenance tight with irritation. “Cut it out, both of you,” she barked. “I thought you promised to behave if I brought you along.”

“Ha!” Sera skipped up ahead of Morrigan, and stopping next to Herah. “I think they just need to kiss and get it over with. Sometimes, stupid people fight when they should do that instead.”

Cassandra couldn’t have sounded more indignant if it had been suggested she might be in league with Corypheus. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped at Sera. “I’m merely exercising sensible caution. The fact that you cannot distinguish that from sexual attraction says more about your own perverted mind than anything I might have done.”

“Protesting a little much there?” Sera laughed at her own remark, with Herah joining in and Cassandra giving both of them a sullen glare. Morrigan, by contrast, said nothing. She had no trouble admitting to herself when she found someone attractive. And Cassandra was certainly an attractive woman. The hard line of her jaw and sharp, brown eyes gave her face a striking quality that Morrigan appreciated, while her body was powerful without being excessively muscle-bound. Still, other people rarely made sex as simple a matter as acting on attraction, no matter how obvious that might seem to her, and so she remained silent.

Cassandra, however, spoke up, clearly eager to change the subject. “I believe we are getting closer, Inquisitor,” she pointed out. “That ridge line seems quite similar to the one our scouts described.”

Herah shielded her eyes with her hand, trying to get a better look at where Cassandra was gesturing. “I think you’re right. It shouldn’t take us too much longer. There seems to be a path winding up along the cliff's face."

Sera let out a long, aggrieved sigh that made Morrigan's eye twitch. The only thing more annoying than the excitable elf's perverted comments was her constant complaining. "Cliffs. Ugh. Why does it always have to be cliffs? Cliffs and bogs and freezing mountains. Why don't we ever go on missions in nice flowery meadows? You'd think Coryphespit would try and ruin all the pretty places like that."

"You were the one who insisted on coming with us," Cassandra reminded Sera."I'm not sure you have the right to complain about a mission you volunteered for."

For one brief moment, Morrigan felt a stab of kinship with Cassandra. Although the Seeker's mistrust continued to wear on her nerves, and the stares were making her more and more uncomfortable, at least they were in agreement on one thing. Sera had to be the most irritating person either of them had ever encountered. She hadn't thought it was possible for anyone to be worse company than Alistair, but Sera was swiftly proving her wrong.

"Me? Complain? Pfft. The only one who's been doing any complaining today is you. ' _Morrigan'_ this, _'Morrigan'_ that. You say you hate her, but that broody glare of yours tells me: I want to throw her down and rip off her breeches. Wait." Her brow furrowed, and Morrigan had the distinct displeasure of becoming the focus of Sera's attention for several moments. "Are you even wearing breeches under that skirt?"

"Please, desist," Morrigan snapped as they started up along the path. "We might encounter Venatori on our way up to the ruins. T'would be most unwise to alert them to our presence."

Sera grumbled for a while, but eventually fell into silence as they climbed. Unfortunately, Morrigan soon discovered that Sera's annoying chatter had been the only thing distracting her from Cassandra's suspicious looks. Even though they were far from friendly, they made her spine tingle. She had no idea why Cassandra's attention affected her so. The Seeker had made her dislike more than clear, and the feeling was mutual. Cassandra was admittedly pleasant to look at, but her personality could be intolerable. She had no appreciation for ancient magic, and even less for anyone who wished to make good use of it.

At last, the unhappy party reached the top of the ridge. Herah pulled her horse to a stop, and Morrigan followed her lead, halting beside Cassandra. Beneath them stood an old, crumbling fortress, but even from a distance, it was obvious that the place was far from ordinary. The smoke streaming above the battlements seemed to hover in the air instead of dissipating, and the  banners flying from the ramparts did not flutter in the breeze. The entire place was completely, eerily still, almost like a painting.

Sera spoke up first, voicing the discomfort they all felt. "I don't like this," she muttered, narrowing her eyes at the fortress. "It feels all wrong."

“That may be true,” Herah agreed, “But it’s not our most pressing problem at the moment. Look over there.”

The Inquisitor gestured with her staff and Morrigan’s gaze was drawn to an encampment slightly outside of the fortress. Several small tents were pitched there, and above the central one, a banner could be seen. It was too far away for her to be certain, but it looked as if it bore the red and white dual serpent design of the Venatori. “It appears we arrived just in time,” she observed.

“Indeed.” Cassandra drew her longsword and began to pick her way down the uneven terrain on the other side of the ridge and towards the camp.

Herah took her staff off of her back. “Should we have a plan?”

Serah’s high-pitched laugh came from Morrigan’s other side. “Heh. Why bother? There’s not too many of them. It’ll be great fun, yeah?”

The elf bounded off after Cassandra, and Morrigan rolled her eyes at the childish behavior. Still, if there was a battle to be fought, it would hardly do to be left out of it. With a flick of her staff, she shifted form, taking on a raven’s shape to better close the distance.

From the air, she had an excellent view as the first of Sera’s arrows pierced the chest of a robed Venatori sorcerer who hadn’t yet taken note of their presence. His choked cries as his blood spilled out on the desert sand certainly got everyone else’s attention, though. The camp came to life at once, the remaining two mages and the soldiers accompanying them scrambling for their weapons.

Morrigan shifted back to her regular shape a short distance from the enemy, close enough to strike with her magic, but far enough to avoid those crude blades. Three of the soldiers rushed out to meet Cassandra, and Morrigan caught the first of them with a powerful bolt of lightning that left him spasming on the ground. The second struck with a heavy, overhand slash, but Cassandra caught it on her shield, knocking aside his blade and exposing him to her counter-thrust. The Seeker’s longsword ripped through the man’s light armor, sending a fountain of red pouring out of his chest.

He crashed to the ground and the final soldier took his place, lunging forward with a thrust that Cassandra turned aside with a strong parry. She raised her sword faster than her target could recover, slashing a crimson trail across his arm. He grunted in pain, his weapon dropping from his hand, and Cassandra brought her sword down on his collar-bone, splitting the man open and leaving his body crumbled in the sand.

Watching the display, Morrigan couldn’t avoid feeling a sudden admiration. Cassandra had more power than a knife-fighter like Zevran, while avoiding the clumsy brutishness of a Shale. It was an impressive combination, one which only made the Seeker’s insistence on regarding her with hostility all the more of a waste.

Still, there wasn’t time to stand around gawking. Morrigan raised her staff, directing a cone of frost at the remaining three Venatori soldiers as they charged out of the encampment towards her. Two of them were frozen solid in seconds, falling easy prey to Sera’s arrows while they stood still, but the third rolled away from the magical energy and aimed his crossbow at Morrigan. He didn’t fire quickly enough though. Cassandra whirled, positioning herself in-between the two of them and raising her shield, letting the quarrel imbed itself harmlessly in the metal.

While she was distracted, one of the Venatori mages struck. With a howl of “For the Elder One,” he launched a cone of crimson flame that engulfed the Seeker. She raised her shield to deflect as much of the attack as she could, but the heat drove her backwards, reaching her even inside of her armor.

Morrigan reacted quickly, shifting into her avian form once more and flitting across the battlefield to a position behind the Venatori. The mage was too busy cackling as he kept pouring flame out at Cassandra to notice, and when Morrigan reverted to her human form, he couldn’t react quickly enough. She plunged her staff blade into his back, the tip ripping out the front of his chest as he crashed to the ground.

When she pulled the blade loose, the battle was already wrapping up. Sera had shot the soldier with the crossbow dead and Herah stood over the charred corpse of the other Venatori mage.

“Everybody all right?” the Inquisitor asked as made her way towards the rest of them.

“Shiny,” Sera said brightly as she started rifling through the pockets of the dead Venatori soldiers, looking for valuables. “Lady Tight Pants got a little singed, but she’ll be all right.”

“I should thank you for that,” Cassandra told Morrigan, quietly enough that the others couldn’t hear her. “It was… skillfully done.”

Morrigan could tell Cassandra was uncomfortable being in her debt, and for some reason, she decided to gave her a graceful exit. “T’was the least I could do. You were attacked while defending me, after all.”

“Well, I appreciated it regardless.”

The two of them turned, falling quiet as they looked up at the strange, still fortress. There was little need for words. The Seeker’s tendency toward silence was another point in her favor, as far as Morrigan was concerned. Still, she could not help glancing over at Cassandra one last time before Sera and the Inquisitor joined them. Something about the woman was impressive despite her other irksome qualities, and she resolved to use the rest of their mission to figure out what, exactly, had so captured her interest.


	4. Chapter 4

Sera shivered as she stood before the large wooden doors. Although it was quite warm, she folded her arms protectively around herself, her eyes darting everywhere at once. The ruins were completely abandoned. Aside from the group of Venatori they had fought with outside, they hadn't encountered anyone else on their way up the path and judging from the eerie silence, there wasn't anyone inside, either. At least she hoped not. Anyone they found there was certainly going to be someone Sera didn't want to meet.

Even from the outside, it was obvious that the ancient palace was falling apart. Crumbling fragments of stone littered the ground. Strands of ivy and creeper had wound themselves around what remained of a short drawbridge that it looked as if no one had crossed in years. Though she was no mage, the magical energy that saturated the place was unmistakable.

Her companions weren’t any help. While Herah and Cassandra seemed to be on their guard too, Morrigan was gazing at the palace with clear reverence instead. Looking at her set Sera's nerves further on edge. "I see why everyone left," she whispered at last. She was desperate to shatter the quiet, even if it was only with the sound of her own voice. "This place is  creepy. And not just regular creepy, neither. ‘Demons are about to burst out and rip your face off at any minute,’ creepy."

"Demons." Cassandra sighed and drew her sword once again. "Thank you, Sera, for your positivity."

"Demons would not necessarily be an unwelcome development," Morrigan pointed out. "If there is a breach in the Fade nearby, surely the magical artifact we seek is its source."

Sera couldn't suppress another shudder of fear. She had no problem putting an arrow in anything Herah pointed her at, but demons always scared her. It wasn't like shooting Templars or mages or Venatori. Magic was bad. Demons were worse. The two of them together... She stopped hugging herself and unstrapped her bow. It couldn't hurt to have an arrow at the ready. "Well? C'mon then. Let's haul arse in there and grab what we need before we end up worse than dead."

For once, all of them nodded in agreement. "Right." Herah stepped forward, passing close by on the way. Sera breathed a little easier as her Herah's arm brushed against hers. She hadn't expected the touch, but subtle as it was, it still made her feel better. A small grin crept across her face as she watched the Inquisitor open the doors, and for one blissful moment, demons and Corypheus and magic fled her thoughts. Herah's strength had always been impressive, but Sera had grown particularly fond of watching the way her muscles moved, even beneath her light armor.

The ancient doors slid open with a creak of protest, but Sera couldn’t see what lay behind them just yet. A glimmering wall of ice stood between them and the inside of the palace. Without the stone portal to block its effect, her shivers were now from cold rather than fear.

Herah, however, remained undaunted. “Ah, ice barriers. My favorite.” She lifted her staff, and flames sprang into being around the tip, banishing the chill from the air. She pointed her weapon at the wall and the fire poured out, colliding with the barrier. The ice splintered, then shattered entirely, collapsing in on itself. Herah flashed them a cocky grin.  “See, nothing to it. Now, let’s get in there and see what we’ve got.”

At first, the abandoned fortress looked very much like the other ruins they had explored many times before, but it didn’t take them long to realize that something was different here. There were enough windows and holes in the walls to allow sunlight into the antechamber, and even Sera could tell that the place was old. The threadbare tapestries on the wall were in a style she didn’t recognize, as was the surviving furniture. What really got her attention, though, were the bodies. Several skeletons were strewn about the floor, clad in the remains of their similarly archaic clothes.

“What happened to them?” Cassandra asked, walking over to one of the corpses for a closer look. “I see no obvious signs of violence, though after so much time, it is difficult to say for sure.”

“Don’t know,” Sera muttered. “Not sure I want to know.” Violence she could deal with. An enemy she could shoot in the face was much better than something that crawled under your skin and killed you without offering so much as a fair fight. And then she saw it. In a corner of the room, her eye caught a flash of green light, and it was a phenomenon she knew all too well. “Oh no,” she gulped. “No, no, no. What the hell is that bloody stuff doing in here?”

Morrigan seemed intrigued rather than dismayed. “I saw it too. It seems much like the energies that usually surround a breach into the Fade, but I see no evidence of one in this room. ‘Tis most unusual.”

“True enough,” Herah agreed. “And I want to know what killed these people and if it’s still around. But I doubt we’ll get many answers from skeletons. Let’s keep moving.”

As they made their way deeper into the fortress, Sera’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room for further sign of that strange energy. She didn’t see anything at first, not until a tendril of green light snaked around Herah’s hand. The Inquisitor gestured into a darkened corridor that sloped gently downwards. “I think what we’re looking for is that way. I can feel a rift… Probably.”

Cassandra shot her a perplexed look. “Probably?”

“It feels different that normal. I’ve never sensed anything quite like it before.”

Herah’s words only set Sera’s nerves further on edge. The Inquisitor had spent a lot of time studying those weird rifts, and if even she was confused, that wasn’t a comforting thought.

Morrigan, however, seemed positively enthused. “Different? This mystery becomes ever more intriguing. Perhaps whoever built these ruins was experimenting with the rift?  Altering it in some way...”

They reached the end of the hallway, where they were confronted with a heavy stone door. Strange symbols that Sera didn’t recognize were carved into its surface, but she couldn’t make out any intelligible pattern. From behind them, though, a hint of that strange green light could be seen flickering through the cracks.

When Morrigan moved to open the door, Cassandra placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go in first,” the Seeker insisted. “We don’t know what might be in there.”

Morrigan snorted. “And you don’t trust me not to make a grab for it, I see. Very well, then. I will simply stand behind you and endeavor to appear honest.”

Sera nocked an arrow and stood beside Cassandra. She was still terrified of the unknown, but demons could be shot just like anything else. Her awful trip to the Fade had proved that much.  “Right, then. Anything moves in there, bam! Arrow in the eye.”

Herah took up a position behind them and raised her staff. “Go on. Open it.”

Cassandra held up her shield and pushed the door open. Sera leaned forward, trying to glimpse what was inside, but all she saw was a brilliant flash of green.

* * *

Heat. Blossoming in her chest, rushing beneath her skin, stretching out toward her fingers and toes. The green light shining all around her became a deep, vivid red, throbbing in time with her heartbeat. In an abstract sort of way, Cassandra knew she should be terrified. She understood that she was in the presence of a Fade rift, and that she and her companions were in danger. But the longer she spent submerged in the warm, pleasant glow, the more relaxed she became. It was like sinking into a hot spring, and she could almost feel steam rising from her flushed skin.

A hand gripped her shoulder, and she turned to see Morrigan standing beside her. The witch's eyes were angry, although her forehead was creased with concern. Her full lips formed words, but Cassandra couldn't make them out. They were like the wash of the ocean's waves in her ears, crashing together until they were meaningless. But... but the sound of her voice was so melodic. Low and sweet, almost like a purr. And the way her mouth moved around the sounds was captivating.

Cassandra blinked. For a moment, she came back to herself. Cold crept in, and she shivered. "Morrigan?"

"-Seeker? The Inquisitor and Sera are gone..."

Morrigan's voice cut out again. Cassandra looked around the room, disturbed by the fact that their companions had deserted them, but her focus only lasted a second. As she turned, she caught sight of an altar in the center of the chamber. Sitting in a place of prominence was a large circular artifact. The ring in the middle made it look like a stylized glowing eye. Although the light shining from it was the same curious green as before, the center was a beautiful shade of amber. The color was familiar. Where had she seen it before...?

Of course. Morrigan's eyes. They're beautiful.

Under normal circumstances, the thought would have bothered her. It was obvious to anyone that Morrigan was beautiful, but beauty was never something that had impressed her before. In fact, it usually paired itself with arrogance - a trait she found most undesirable. But the longer she gazed at the glowing eye, the stronger her urge was to turn around. She wanted to see Morrigan's face. To check and see if her eyes were truly the same lovely color.

At last, she gave in and looked. Morrigan's movements were increasingly agitated. Her mouth was open to speak, but Cassandra couldn't hear anything but sweetness pouring from her lips. Her sword tumbled from her grip and she reached out, cupping Morrigan's cheek in her hand and holding her still. The witch froze in shock, but didn't pull away. Her lips remained slightly parted, and Cassandra found herself aware of every breath that skated between them.

Another flash of light, and she was leaning in. Morrigan's mouth burned beneath hers. It left her own lips tingling, but she couldn't pull away. She dropped her shield as well, folding her hands around Morrigan's hips. The witch’s staff seemed to disappear, and rough hands gripped the back of her head, threading through her hair and holding her in place.

Those full lips parted for her, and Cassandra felt herself melting into Morrigan’s kiss. It was sweeter than she could have dreamed, and she couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t tried this before. She’d wasted so much time fighting with this woman when all along, this bliss was right there waiting for her. One of her hands slid under Morrigan’s loose top while the other worked it’s way up the slit of her skirt. The revealing outfit she had so foolishly disparaged seemed perfect now, letting her explore the delicious expanse of Morrigan’s body without wasting any time.

The kiss only broke when she needed to move lower, her hand pulling back Morrigan’s long, black hair so that she could latch on to the curve of her throat and sink her teeth into that tantalizing flesh. Her skin tasted like salt and lightning and with every passing moment, Cassandra could feel herself becoming further intoxicated, desperate for more of this woman.

Fabric blocked her path and she growled.  She wanted access to those full breasts that were always on such tantalizing display, and she tore the bra out of the way, tossing it on the floor.  A large nipple stiffened between her fingers, and when Morrigan let out a low moan, Cassandra’s knees trembled.

Her other hand pushed aside Morrigan’s smalls, and when she explored beneath them, she was thrilled to find her new lover soaking already. She had never been with another woman before, but this felt utterly natural, and so she simply obeyed her instincts. Her fingers parted Morrigan’s slick folds, seeking out her clit. It was trickier to find than when she touched herself, but a sharp intake of breath told her when she’d found the right spot.

Morrigan rocked into her touch, her hips shifting in an attempt to increase the pressure against the hard bud. Cassandra’s own body was crying out for attention too, but even that craving didn’t seem as important as what she was doing. She needed to take Morrigan as intimately as she possibly could, to make her cry out her name until she was hoarse.

Rubbing her clit wasn’t enough, and so Cassandra dipped lower. Two of her fingers pressed against Morrigan’s entrance. As soon as the tight muscle parted for her, she pushed inside. She rarely entered herself, and she could scarcely believe how wet and hot the witch felt around her. She had no doubt that whatever fever had seized her, Morrigan felt it too.


	5. Chapter 5

Morrigan clutched Cassandra’s shoulders, tilting her head back as she was taken. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she knew she should be more concerned about what was going on. There was still a strange artifact and a Fade rift to be dealt with, to say nothing of the fact that Sera and the Inquisitor had vanished. And yet, those things seemed meaningless in the face of her need.

Nor did she care why this was happening. Morrigan didn’t know if Cassandra was even attracted to her, but she definitely wasn’t the kind of person who would just drop everything to fuck in the middle of some ancient ruins. But that, too, was a problem for another time. She needed to ease the pounding lust between her legs far more than she needed answers. For that, only Cassandra’s touch would do.

Blunt teeth sank into Morrigan's throat once more, and she surrendered to the rhythm pounding in her blood. Each forceful thrust split her apart, pushing against a throbbing place along her front wall, but it still wasn't enough. She rolled her hips forward, hungry for more. More fullness, more pressure, more of the burning stretch. She cried out, clenching down around Cassandra's fingers. The altar, the room, the entire world slipped away. All that mattered, the  only thing that mattered, was taking Cassandra deeper.

She couldn't remember when she’d been pinned against the nearest wall, but she was grateful for the extra support as she hooked her leg around the Seeker's powerful waist. She trembled, clawing at the back of Cassandra's armor. Her hands ached to feel flesh, and she despised the metal and leather in her way. She began undoing buckles as best she could, but most of her efforts were useless. The quick, harsh pumps of Cassandra's hand made it impossible to focus on anything else.

Cassandra let out a low growl, pausing her movements. A whine lit up the sides of Morrigan's throat, but she barely had time to be disappointed. Cassandra snatched up her wrists, pinning them above her head with her forearm. Her sudden helplessness drew an unexpected flood from between her legs, but she was too far gone to be embarrassed. With Cassandra's fingers pumping inside her and the heel of her hand grinding against the swollen point of Morrigan’s clit, she hardly cared how desperate she might appear.

Unable to touch and too overwhelmed to form words, she could only yield to her need. Her body was searing, screaming for relief. She couldn't have stopped the powerful shudders that coursed through her even if she wanted to. Her inner walls clutched even tighter around Cassandra's fingers, and the pressure inside of her finally burst, spilling out as she howled her pleasure to the ceiling. The ripples seemed endless, and each one left her more unhinged. Her hips jerked forward in an uneven rhythm as she bucked against Cassandra's hand, covering it with her release.

The powerful pulses eventually faded to aftershocks, but Cassandra showed no signs of stopping. Indeed, she seemed more determined than ever. Morrigan's wrists fell free, but Cassandra clutched her waist instead, hitching her leg up even higher. She shoved her fingers through Cassandra's short hair, dragging her forward. The haunting taste of her lover’s mouth still filled her own, and she was starving for more. They crashed together in a bruising kiss, and she shivered as Cassandra's tongue pushed past her lips. Not to be outdone, she sank her teeth into the Seeker's bottom lip, determined to stake her own claim.

With another curl of Cassandra's fingers, she was toppling over the edge a second time, shouting her surprise and pleasure into the blazing heat of her mouth. Her lungs burned, but she didn't care about breathing. The coiled tension inside her snapped once more, and she writhed between Cassandra's hard body and the wall. Her only desperate thought as she came was that, once again, her release had done nothing to ease the clawing ache in her belly.

When she realized that she was well on her way to a third peak, she knew this couldn't continue. She yanked her lips away and shoved Cassandra's chest, forcing her back. Although Morrigan didn't have the Seeker's brute strength, the move startled her enough to make her stop. Cassandra stepped back in a daze, looking almost hurt by the rejection, and the pouting expression caused a curious weight to settle in Morrigan's chest. If she had been in her right mind, she would have scoffed at herself for feeling pity for someone else. But as her eyes roamed up and down Cassandra's body, all she could think of was how much she wanted to see it stripped bare. She ignored the unpleasant emptiness between her legs and hurried to unbuckle Cassandra's armor.

She had made a decent start on the breastplate earlier, and it was only seconds later that it clattered to the floor. She didn’t bother removing Cassandra’s shirt, instead just plunging her hands underneath it. The body she found was as incredible as she’d hoped, toned and athletic from long years of fighting. She bent down to kiss her chiseled abdominal muscles, running her tongue over the firm landscape. Cassandra’s back arched, and her hands clutched at Morrigan’s head, urging her lower.

She hurried to comply. Cassandra’s mouth had been sweet enough, and she couldn’t wait to taste her more intimately. While she undid her belt, she kept kissing the sweaty skin above it, unwilling to relinquish the object of her desire. Once she’d removed the obstruction, she yanked down Cassandra’s breeches, taking her smallclothes along with them in a single rough motion.

The Seeker’s thick scent filled her nose, and Morrigan felt a burning desire to taste its source, to claim all of the woman who had just done the same to her. Her teeth clamped down on the soft skin of Cassandra’s inner thigh, drawing a desperate growl from above her. She ran her tongue over the mark she’d left, soothing it before moving upward, lapping at the wetness that was dripping out. The flavor was tart and heavy, and having it in her mouth triggered something primal in her. Her hands gripped the Seeker’s hips and she plunged in so that she could take as much as she wanted. The grip on her head tightened, but she scarcely noticed. This was all she could focus on, all she cared about, and she lapped up everything her lover had to give.

Cassandra’s back slammed against the wall. She slumped down, her legs failing her under the onslaught. A growled demand of “More,” came from her lips and Morrigan forced herself to move on. As much as she craved Cassandra’s taste, she wanted her climax even more. One of her hands spread the Seeker’s soaked folds, and when she found her throbbing clit already peeking out from beneath its hood, she latched onto it with her tongue.

The response was instantaneous. Cassandra’s hips bucked against her mouth and fresh wetness coated her chin. The iron control that the Seeker always showed was gone, replaced with nothing but a series of strangled sounds. Eager to pull out more of them, Morrigan drew the hard bud between her lips, sucking on it harshly while her tongue ran back and forth along its length. Her hands gripped Cassandra’s fantastic ass, pulling her further into her mouth, and it only took seconds more before she was spasming, her clit twitching against Morrigan’s tongue.

The feel of Cassandra collapsing for her made the witch’s own body hum with renewed need, but she was no more willing to stop than her lover had been. She plunged two fingers into Cassandra’s clinging heat, and when a flood of wetness ran down her hand, Morrigan knew she was going to be doing this for quite some time.

Sera blinked as green light flooded into her eyes, trying in vain to keep it out. She had no idea what had just hit her, but she could already feel it working its will. There was a tightening in her belly, a clawing emptiness that made her feel as if she hadn’t eaten in days, but what she needed wasn’t food. She turned around, and when she saw Herah standing there, her legs nearly collapsed out from under her.

It was as if everything she loved about the Inquisitor had been highlighted by the light of the Maker Himself. Her broad, well-defined frame with its taut muscles, her full breasts, those big, dark eyes, the exotic curves of the horns that topped her head… Just looking at them was enough to make her nipples stiffen beneath her tunic and her clit pulse against her smalls. And if looking was that good, than she could only imagine what it would be like to touch.

Herah was looking at her too, those eyes practically begging her to come closer and fall into them. The Inquisitor opened her mouth to speak, but as soon as Sera heard her name rolling out in that husky voice, she couldn’t make out any of the other words. Her bow slid out of her hands, crashing on the stone as she stepped forward, reaching toward the woman she’d wanted for what felt like a lifetime. Everything she needed was right there, and all she had to do was claim it for herself.

And then everything crashed to a halt. Inches away from the object of her desire, Sera slammed into a shimmering barrier of magical force. As she staggered backwards, something shook loose in her foggy brain. She blinked, and in a moment of clarity, she realized that something horrible had gotten inside of her, warping her thoughts. Here she was in a spooky ruin filled with bad magic, and all she wanted to do was screw the nearest mage.

A cry of frustration forced its way out of her throat and she turned away from Herah’s outstretched hand, racing back up the corridor they had just come from. The qunari was yelling something at her, but she couldn’t heed it or else she’d be lost. Sera didn’t know what was waiting for her in the darkness, but nothing frightened her so much as the desperate cravings that were still burning through her body.

Forgetting everything else, she ran as far and fast as her legs would carry her. She staggered over the uneven stone at a sprint, almost tripping several times. Her palms burned from catching herself on the rough walls, but she didn't care. The scratching in her head was back, only this time, it was overwhelming her with desire instead of fear. The further she got from the room, the more its pull weakened, but she was too afraid to slow down. She wouldn't give the Fade another chance to torture her. She  couldn't...

A high pitched shriek tore through Sera's ears, and she stopped short as a scythe-like claw slashed by her face. It cut through the air a hair's breadth away, and she barely managed to dodge in time. A terror demon loomed over her, blinking its spider-like eyes. Saliva dripped from the ragged pincers, and another chilling scream burst from its sharp mouth, spraying at her face.

Sera reaching back for her bow on instinct, but it was nowhere to be found. The pit of her stomach dropped. "Arsebiscuits!" she shouted, scrambling backward. There was nothing for it. She had to flee. She turned on her heels, whipping around and running as fast as she could back the way she had come. She veered down the first new hallway she could find, not caring where she was going. As long as it was away from the demons and the enchanted room, she didn't care. 

The demon loped behind her, its claws screeching over stone, but Sera didn't dare slow down enough to look. She wove her way through the ruins, vaulting over a fallen pillar and stumbling down a short flight of stairs. She thought she could see sunlight coming from nearby, and she headed toward it, hoping she could find a way to outrun the demon better in open ground. Maybe if she found her way back to the front entrance, she could pick up a bow from one of the dead Venatori...

"Shit!" she spat as she found herself face to face with a flat wall. "Shit, shit, fuck, arse, shit!" Her eyes darted from side to side, searching for another way out, but there was none to be found. She had stumbled into a dead end. Trembling with fright, she whirled around to face the demon behind her. It prowled forward on all fours, closing in.

Sera squeezed her eyes shut tight, too terrified to look. The nothing was only inches away. Seconds seemed to slow, and her last thought before the demon lunged was of Herah. She felt a sharp stab of guilt for abandoning her in that horrible chamber. No matter what the Fade had done to her, it wasn't Herah's fault.

"Sera!"

A squeal of pain pierced the air, and Sera opened her eyes to a bloom of fire. The terror demon was burning, flailing its long limbs in an attempt to put out the flames. It thrashed, but the red tongues only crawled further up along its bony frame. Herah stood behind it, twirling her staff as she aimed blast after blast at its body.

The demon didn't stand a chance. It fell in seconds, crumbling away to dust. The last thing to go was its teeth, and Sera shuddered, still half certain they were going to come after her. Finally, once her brain wrapped around the fact that she wasn't going to die, she looked up at her savior. Herah was standing before her, a look of concern on her face. "Sera! Are you all right? Did it hurt you?"

Pain rushed in to fill the void fear had left. Just looking at Herah hurt, and Sera averted her eyes, hanging her head in shame. "I'm fine, Inky," she mumbled from the corner of her mouth. "I... I dunno what happened. It was just... in my head and... the scratching. Only this time it moved down to my pants, and..." She sighed, giving up on trying to explain. The tricks of the Fade weren't easily put into words. She wanted to apologize, but she couldn't quite get it out.

Thankfully, Herah didn’t make her say anything more. Instead, she simply stepped forward let Sera collapse into her arms. Sera didn’t realize how badly she’d been shaking until she was being held, the strong grip bracing her as she slumped against Herah’s chest.

Her fear had receded, but from beneath it, all of the the other emotions she’d been holding back came pouring out, a tide she couldn’t contain. She started sobbing, her tears soaking the front of Herah’s coat as her guilt overwhelmed her.  “I’m so sorry, Inquisitor… Inky… Herah…”  She cycled through the names as she tried to find the rest of the words she needed.  “I didn’t mean to blame you for… For the nightmares, and the Fade, but I did and it wasn’t your fault. But you… you had the magic, and it made me think of... and I shouldn’t have done that.  Especially when you’re… you saved me, Inky. And I really, really still want to kiss you.”

It was Herah’s turn to struggle to find her words, and her husky voice broke as she tried to reply. “Sera, I don’t quite know what to say.”

“Say you still want to kiss me too. ‘Cause if I fucked everything up, being a big stupid idiot, then I don’t know...”

Herah didn’t wait for her to finish. With one hand, she tilted Sera’s chin up and bent down, catching her lips with her own. They’d kissed before, but those had been stolen little things in the halls of Skyhold or the backs of taverns. This was different, less playful and more solid. Herah’s lips parted and Sera’s tongue slid into her mouth, letting her taste the rich warmth there. Her hands wrapped around the Inquisitor’s back, pulling them closer, and she felt her whole body hum at the sheer rightness of this. All of her fears seemed a world away, replaced with the knowledge that this was what she truly wanted.

And then it was gone. Herah broke the kiss and pulled back, panting. “Sera… Wait…”

Her heart fell to the bottom of her stomach.  “What’s wrong, Inky?” she mumbled. “Wasn’t good? I was sure...”

Herah shook her head and took a very deep breath. “No, it was good. Really, really good. Which is why I had to stop. This isn’t exactly the time, and you were going to make me forget that.”

She grinned, her delight at the Inquisitor’s words making her forget to be frustrated. “Right then. Gotta be responsible, yeah? Go back.”

“I think we’d better see if we can figure out what the hell we’re dealing with first.” She could see Herah pulling the mantle of the Inquisitor around herself as she spoke, making herself do what was right, not what she wanted. “Whatever magic was in there, it really messed with your head. I mean, you’d never drop this otherwise.” 

With a smile, Herah reached around and pulled Sera’s bow off of her back, putting in her eager hands. Sera took it, her hands clenching around the hardened wood as she steadied her nerves. She was still scared as hell of going back into that room, but at least she wasn’t going to be doing it alone.


	6. Chapter 6

The rage demon slithered toward Herah on tendrils of fire, its bubbling jaws open wide. She stumbled backward, lashing out with her staff, but though the billowing wall of flame she called up from the ground had dealt with the wraiths, it was useless against this thing. The blazing, hunched creature burst right through, swelling in size as her fire was added to its bulk. It continued toward her, reaching out with the long, burning whirlwinds of its arms.

"Duck!"

Herah ducked. A split second later, an arrow whooshed over her head, thudding into the demon's flickering face. It opened its shapeless, gurgling mouth, turning its blunt head toward the ceiling and shrieking in agony. Molten cracks started to show beneath its hardened shell, and lava spilled out, dripping into a puddle on the floor. Finally, it burst into flames, lighting the dark tunnel with a brilliant flare before disappearing forever.

"Bam! Arrow in its face." Herah looked up in time to see Sera do a victory skip, grinning and clutching her bow. "D'ja see that, Inky? I sent that thing arse over tits. Well, if it had tits. Whatever."

"It was almost an arrow in my skull," Herah pointed out, but she gave Sera a grateful smile as she climbed back to her feet and brushed off her leggings. "Thanks, Sera. Fire isn't much good against rage demons and I didn’t have time to switch up."

Sera glanced around the hallway, checking carefully to make sure all the demons were gone before strapping her bow across her back. "That's what you've got me for, yeah? Hate demons, but I wouldn't want to leave you alone to fight one. You can't kill 'em all with sparkly finger-waving."

Although Sera was surprisingly upbeat, especially after fighting one of her worst fears, Herah detected traces of guilt and sadness behind her forced cheer. She could tell Sera still felt bad for abandoning her back in the main chamber. Herah had to admit that it had felt like a betrayal, but the sorrow in Sera's kiss had eased some of her hurt. She still wasn't sure what it meant or where they stood with each other, but this wasn't exactly the best time to ask those questions. At the very least, she was happy Sera seemed to care about her safety. "Well, I'm grateful to have you here. I'm not sure I'd be able to get back to Cassandra and Morrigan on my own."

Sera bit her lip and averted her eyes. So far, they hadn't been successful in retracing the path of her flight. Running away from and after various groups of demons in the temple had taken them far out of their way. "Speaking of, we should move. Think we've cleared out the last of the creepies. Should have a clear shot to the middle of the temple if we move fast and stay lucky."

"Stay lucky?" Herah asked with a healthy amount of skepticism. "You mean we've been lucky all this time? Could have fooled me."

"Fine. If we move fast and start getting lucky. Let's hurry, grab tall, dark, and moody..."

She snorted. "Which one is that?"

"Both. Anyway, we grab ‘em and rabbit real quick."

Herah shook her head. “If we do that, we could just end up getting hit with whatever messed with you last time. We don’t know what that was, and walking in blind doesn’t seem like a good idea.” She tapped her fingers on the back of her skull. “There has to be something around here that could help us out.”

Sera’s face scrunched up as she considered the problem. _Maker, she’s adorable when she does that._ “Not sure if it’ll help, but I think I saw some dusty books and stuff a few demons back.”

“It’s worth a look.” She started back the way they’d come, trying to retrace her recent steps.

The ruins were a warren of tight, stone corridors, all of them annoyingly similar, but fortunately the smell of burnt demon provided a solid general guide to where they’d just been. A few minutes of searching later, they found themselves in front of a half-open door.

“Think this is it.” Sera stuck her head inside the room, looking back and forth. “Yup. That’s the place.”

Herah followed her in, the light from her staff illuminating the small chamber. There were a pair more skeletons there, laying in a heap on top of each other in one corner, but the Inquisitor was more interested in the “dusty books,” as Sera had called them.  There were a small pile of them sitting on a stone table along with a set of quills, though the ink had long since dried up.

“So, anything look good?” Sera asked, picking up one of the volumes and flipping through it.

“Because it all seems like right gibberish to me.”

Herah turned one of the books over in her hands, trying not to inhale too much of the copious dust that blew off of the cover. They were as ancient as everything else in this place, and only the dry air had preserved them over the centuries. The writing on the spine was old too, the language that of the ancient Tevinter. She just counted herself lucky that her studies as a rift mage had sharpened her practice with that tongue; it was no surprise Sera couldn’t read it.

“It’s a treatise on Fade rifts,” the Inquisitor told Sera. “Presumably that’s what the Tevinter were here to study.”

She rifled through the other books: _Exotic Wonders of the Fade, Devarius’ Guide to Advanced Enchanting, 12 Types of Demons to Conjure or Avoid…_ “Damn it! These are just academic studies. I mean, I’m sure Dorian and Dagna would love to get hold of them, but it doesn’t do us a bit of… Wait a minute.” She picked up an unlabeled volume, cracking the spine and beginning to page through it. “This is different.”

“What’s that, then?” Sera asked, craning her neck for a better view in spite of her inability to actually read the contents.

“It looks like a journal from one of the researchers here. Now, give me a little space and hopefully, I can figure out what they were up to and what’s going on with Cassandra and Morrigan.”

  

The stone floor beneath her should have been uncomfortable but Cassandra hardly noticed its rough texture rubbing against her bare back. Much more interesting was the pliant flesh of Morrigan’s ass, the warmth of her lush body, and especially her rich, tart taste. Cassandra couldn’t get enough of the flavor, plunging her tongue in as deep as she could.

Morrigan’s grip tightened in response, and she lowered her head, long hair draping across the legs beneath her.  Cassandra moaned as her folds were spread apart and those full, dark lips found her clit, pulling her between them. Morrigan sucked harshly, and Cassandra gasped at the jolt of pleasure that ran through her body. She couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but just take and be taken.

And she needed to take Morrigan. Needed to take her in every way she could imagine, even ones she’d never considered before. She took one finger and thrust it into the witch, coating it in the arousal flooding out of her before bringing it back up to that perfect, full rear end. Morrigan stiffened as she slid down between her cheeks, but she didn’t protest, and Cassandra pressed the digit against her back entrance. It was almost impossibly tight, and even through the fog of her lust, she realized she had to start slowly. She slid in to the first knuckle, warmth clamping down around her so effectively she couldn’t go further yet.

Morrigan pulled back and gave a deep groan as her concentration was broken, but Cassandra barely cared about the loss of sensation. The reaction she had caused was incredibly arousing in its own right, and she wanted more. Her tongue ran along Morrigan’s slick folds, parting them as she sought out her clit. The pleasure made the witch’s body relax, and Cassandra was able to push in further, almost to the second knuckle.

A string of obscenities in some language she didn’t know were forced out of Morrigan’s mouth, and Cassandra began to thrust gently with her finger, withdrawing slightly before plunging back into that gripping heat. At the same time, she started licking again, painting rough strokes along the swollen bud that was exposed to her.  Morrigan was thrashing above her, and Cassandra’s inner walls clenched around nothing. She almost fell over the edge herself, even without any physical stimulation. This, claiming Morrigan for her own, was better than anything else, and as long as she could keep doing it, nothing else mattered…

 

"Maker's breath, what are they doing?"

Sera gaped at the two women writhing in the middle of the room, torn between shock and amusement. She had stormed in at Herah's side, bow in hand, bravely prepared to rescue Cassandra and Morrigan from the creepy artifact and maybe some demons. The last thing she had expected to find was the two of them fucking on the floor, their heads buried between each other's legs. In spite of the danger, she burst out laughing, unable to stifle the tide of giggles pouring out of her.

"What d'you think they're doing, Inky?" she asked, but she couldn't blame Herah for being skeptical. If she hadn't been witnessing it in person, she would have said the Fade would freeze over before Cassandra would put her mouth anywhere near Morrigan’s bits, let alone with quite so much enthusiasm. In fact, the sight was almost pretty.  Neither Morrigan nor Cassandra was really her type, but together, they were strangely compelling...

Green light suddenly flashed in front of her eyes, and a curious warmth seared her skin. The bodies before her shifted, flickering and changing. Suddenly, it wasn't Morrigan and Cassandra she was seeing twined together, but her and Herah. They moved as one, tasting and taking, melting into each other. A stab of want throbbed low in her stomach, and she stretched out her arm, reaching for something she couldn't quite grasp.

"Sera!" A firm hand shook her shoulder, and she jolted back to herself.  She blinked in confusion until the fog cleared and she saw Herah - the real Herah - standing before her. "Sera, you have to focus."

Dread washed over her as she realized what had almost happened, and she resisted the twin temptations to either run or grab Herah and try to make her vision a reality.  Instead, she drew an arrow and turned toward the table. "Shite," she muttered, shivering with fear. "That's twice now. We need to break this thing before it turns me into a drooling idiot like those two."

Herah shook her head. "Right, but according to those notes, we can’t do it directly.  I have to close the rift first.”

Movement caught her eye, and Sera gasped as the strange circle turned toward them. It started to glow, drawing more energy from the open Fade rift above the altar. "Move!" she shouted, giving Herah a hard shove. They managed to dodge just in time. Another streak of green shot through the air where they had been standing moments before, disappearing harmlessly into the wall.

"Thanks," Herah said, but Sera hardly heard her. The artifact was already charging up again, preparing to send another burst in their direction. This time, she ducked, crouching close to the ground as the pulse sailed over her head. She bit back a curse, trying to see a path forward, but there was none to be found. Her heart sank. Herah would never be able to stand still long enough to close the rift.  Unless...

"Go," she shouted, waving Herah toward the altar. "Try and seal it up. I'll cover you."

Herah stared at her in shock, face tightening with concern. "Sera..."

But she had already made up her mind. She didn't trust magic, but she did believe in Herah. If she couldn't put her faith in the woman who had already saved her countless times and shown her nothing but love, she couldn't rely on anyone. She hopped back to her feet and sprinted forward, heading directly for the altar.

The rift surged through the eye again, but this time Sera didn’t leap away. Instead, she threw herself in its path, positioning her body in-between the pulse and Herah. Her vision filled with green light once more, a warmth that poured through her extremities and straight to her core. Her skin flushed and her every nerve felt sensitized by the contact. The visions that had teased her before were back, stronger than ever.

_Herah’s powerful hands lifted her off the ground, pulling back her tights with easy strength, exploring the skin beneath…  Her head lay buried between the Inquisitor’s thighs, spreading and probing, discovering her secret taste....  Her hands, clutching at Herah’s horns, a desperate attempt to gain a measure of control as…_

“Fucking stupid piece of glass!” Sera spat as she shook her head, trying to banish the delicious images. Strands of green light were flowing into the rift, presumably from Herah’s mark, and she could almost see the Inquisitor standing behind her, just begging for Sera to turn around. And she wanted to. Her body was screaming at her to go and claim what should be hers…

“Bloody balls!” She clenched her fists, the nails digging into the calloused skin of her palms hard enough that the pain drove back her desire, at least a little bit. “Get out of my head you stupid Magister hunk of arse magic!”

“Hang on, Sera. Just a little longer.” Herah’s voice was meant to be steadying, and yet hearing those husky tones sent fresh shivers through Sera’s body.  What would it sound like calling out in pleasure, moaning her name?   _No. Can’t think about that.  Have to stand here. Have to protect Herah from stupid shite._

And then the eye flashed again. The images were all flowing together now, glimpses of naked bodies pressed against each other, desires too rapid to name and too strong to fight overwhelming Sera. She couldn’t wait, not anymore. No matter the cost, she had to have Herah and she had to have her now. And why not?  Nothing else was real but that hunger. Sera turned, helpless to do anything but obey the wanting spreading out from between her legs.  Everything she needed was right there, all tall, and sleek, and so damn tasty, the Inquisitor’s glowing hand curling as she…

Before Sera could complete the thought, the glow behind her exploded and everything went green and fuzzy all at once.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Morrigan realized as the red throb in her head receded was that her back was pressed against cold stone. Something warm and heavy was pinning her to the ground, and her shoulders felt as though they had been scraped raw. She groaned and tried to move, but the weight on top of her was too heavy to shift.  Weight... on top of me... Her stomach dropped as the reality of her situation sank in.  Oh no. Blast and damnation.

Her worst fears were confirmed as she blinked her eyes and looked up. Cassandra's muscular body was resting comfortably over hers. The position offered her an awkward, intimate view, and judging by Cassandra's swollen outer lips and the wetness covering her own chin, they had been even closer moments ago.

"If 'tis not too much trouble, Seeker, I suggest you move," she said in her driest voice, giving Cassandra's legs a none too gentle push. "You feel even heavier than you appear, and I find it difficult to breathe."

Her words finally sparked a reaction. Cassandra rolled off her in an instant and scrambled away, flailing across the floor in an effort to escape. "Maker preserve me," she gasped, staring around the room with wide, frantic eyes. "Did I... with you?"

Morrigan pushed herself into a sitting position, swiping the back of her hand over her mouth.  If the wetness there and the soreness between her legs weren’t proof enough, the growing clarity in her thoughts was accompanied by a flood of extremely vivid memories. "As unpleasant as it is to consider, I fear we have no choice but to admit the truth." She gestured between their naked bodies, torn between disgust at her own behavior and amusement at Cassandra's discomfort. "The evidence is too great to ignore."

Cassandra hurried to cover herself as best she could, grabbing her discarded breastplate and holding it to her chest. She shook her head, her sharp features hardening even further with denial. "No. I won't believe it. We did not. I would never..."

"You would, and we did," Morrigan snapped. "I find your company nearly as distasteful as you find mine, but 'tis no use sniveling about it. Lies accomplish nothing."

Her words only seemed to send Cassandra into a deeper panic. She began scooping up the rest of her clothes, trying to pull them on and failing utterly in her haste. "No, no, no," she muttered to herself, a scowl slicing across her unusually pale face. She looked furious and terrified all at once, and completely unwilling to accept their situation.

Morrigan stopped paying attention, too exasperated with Cassandra's behavior to continue listening. Instead, she looked around the room and took stock of the situation. The altar in the center of the chamber had cracked, and the strange green light was gone. Instead, the Inquisitor stood beside the broken slab, embracing a dazed-looking Sera as tears trickled down her cheeks. The elf shook herself, seeming to come around, and Morrigan wasn't certain whether to feel disappointed or relieved. She had never liked Sera, but the thought of being alone with Cassandra in dangerous magic ruins was even less pleasant.

She began to reconsider her opinion a few moments later when Sera pulled back from the Inquisitor and turned toward them. A gleeful grin spread across the elf’s face, and the room filled with her raucous laughter. She tried several times to speak, but giggles kept spilling out instead, and she nearly doubled over as she clutched at her stomach.

Morrigan gave a deep sigh and looked over at Cassandra. The Seeker seemed even more horrified than before at the realization that they had an audience. She started to bury her face in her hands, then jerked back in horror when her breastplate fell away from her otherwise nude chest. For a brief moment, Morrigan almost felt sorry for her. Even Cassandra didn't deserve this. "Continue mocking us if you wish, but I promise there will be consequences," she said, aiming a sharp glare in Sera's direction.

The elf's laughter turned to unsteady hiccups, and Herah averted her eyes, attempting to give them at least a little privacy. "Worth it," Sera crowed, biting her lip in a vain attempt to stifle another round of laughter. “Cause I said… And then you actually… Too bloody perfect.”  She couldn’t speak in complete sentences, her every attempt punctuated by fresh guffaws.

The Inquisitor looked at Sera, seemingly unsure if she should say something, but before she could make up her mind, Cassandra exploded. “Maker, Sera, what is the matter with you? Morrigan and I were put under the control of a powerful artifact, one that made us do things we would never have considered otherwise, and all you can think to do is mock our plight. I would think you, of all people, would appreciate the power of magic to twist…”

Her words were stopped dead in their tracks by the sound of Herah clearing her throat in disagreement.  The Inquisitor gave the two erstwhile lovers an uncomfortable look, and when she spoke, she sounded equal parts regretful and bemused. “Actually, that’s not quite true. The artifact certainly was affecting your minds, but according to the research notes Sera found, it didn’t create desires so much as emphasize them. Whatever it was that, uh, you two did, was something that at least a part of you wanted already. The magic just overrode all the reasons you might not do it, like being in the middle of a Tevinter ruin full of demons.”

“Or 'cause you hate each other’s guts,” Sera laughed, but though the continuing mockery annoyed Morrigan, she was more intrigued by Cassandra’s reaction.

* * *

Cassandra blinked hard as she tried to digest this new information.  She knew that her mouth was moving, but all that came out were a series of incoherent protests.  “I did not,” was followed by “Surely you must have misread,” and then, “Perhaps it didn’t,” before she gave up, slumping down in stunned silence. Distantly, she could tell the others were still talking, but she was too overwhelmed to make out the words.

Could she really have wanted this? She was far from sexually experienced, but had never considered herself a prude, either. She had enjoyed intimacy with her first and only partner, but it was supposed to be the manifestation of a deep and meaningful connection between two people. Not this. Not a sordid tryst on a dusty floor with a woman she could barely tolerate.

And yet, that was exactly what she had just engaged in. As recent events ran rampant through her head, memories of clinging heat and soft skin, of tongues and hands, and so much more, the worst thing was that disgust wasn’t the only thing she felt.  It’s the artifact. These must still be the lingering effects of its magic, warping my thoughts.

Giving up on any hope of dignity after what everyone else had already seen, Cassandra rose from the floor and began gathering up what remained of her clothes. They were a mess, rumpled and torn in places, and the reminder of the intense, needful haste that had left them in that state made her blush anew. Morrigan was similarly engaged, while Herah busied herself examining the now-cracked crystal eye and Sera alternated between shooting glances at the qunari and snickering.

“You have no need for such shame,” Morrigan said when their paths crossed at the spot where one of the witch’s boots and Cassandra’s belt had both been flung.  “I agree, t’was unfortunate, but it is hardly the end of the world. Your body had an urge and you satisfied it.  ‘Tis perfectly natural.”

“There was nothing natural about this,” she spat back. “It was magic that made me disgrace myself, nothing more.”

“That is not what the Inquisitor claims.”  Morrigan’s voice was calm, infuriatingly so after what they’d just been through.

“And magic never goes wrong?” she protested.  “I have seen countless examples of spells that didn’t work as they were intended to. I am sure this was one of them.”

Morrigan gave her that dismissive look Cassandra so hated before giving up and pulling on her skirt. She shouldn’t bend over like that. It’s so damnably hard to look away from her rear end when she does.  Cassandra shook her head furiously. Why am I looking at her that way at all? What in Andraste’s name is wrong with me?

Her thoughts veered off course at the sound of a clearing throat. Grateful for an excuse to look away from Morrigan, she turned to see Herah standing beside her at a cautious distance. There was sympathy on the Inquisitor's face, but she wasn't certain whether the look made her feel better or worse. At least Herah didn't seem to think less of her, but she didn't want anyone's pity.

"I think the four of us should leave," Herah said, reaching back to rub her neck. Her evident awkwardness only made the churning in Cassandra's gut worse. "The rift is closed, and the artifact only worked by channeling the Fade energy it released."

"Not to mention you broke it," Sera chimed in. She still looked delighted by their misery, and Cassandra couldn't help shooting a disapproving scowl in her direction. Unfortunately, it didn't even come close to intimidating the elf into silence. "Good thing, or those two would still be at each other's bits instead of each other's throats." Herah gave her a warning look as well, but it didn't seem to discourage her. "I dunno. Maybe you should have kept it. Might have been an improvement, yeah?"

"You do realize what you're suggesting, don't you?" Morrigan asked. Cassandra breathed a small sigh of relief when she saw that the witch was fully dressed. Unfortunately, her clothes still showed a fair amount of skin, but she looked surprisingly presentable considering the circumstances. "Seizing control of another person's mind through magic is something that even I might consider morally questionable, depending on the circumstances."

"But it didn't take over your mind, it just-"

"Enough!" Cassandra snarled, cutting off Sera's argument and glaring at her three companions. Sera's grin, Herah's blush, and Morrigan's bored attempts at normalcy all vanished into nearly identical, slightly startled expressions. "We will leave this place immediately and never speak of what happened here again. Cullen's scouts can check the ruins for any remaining demons and retrieve the... paperwork... Sera found." She paused, waiting for any objections, but none came. "Unless you see any further need to stay here, Inquisitor?"

Herah's eyes widened, and she shook her head. "No! Um, I mean... I can see why leaving might be the, er... the best course of action under the circumstances." She glanced at Morrigan. "You can't sense that weird magical energy coming from this place now, right? I don't feel it anymore."

The witch shook her head. "No. Whatever powers lingered here are gone now. If your Templar's scouts retrieve the books you’ve found, there will be nothing left here for Corypheus to make use of."

"Good." Without waiting for confirmation from Herah, Cassandra finished snapping on the last buckles of her armor and stalked toward the door, refusing to look at any of the others just in case they caught sight of the fiercely burning flush that colored her cheeks. If she had her way, she wouldn't say a single word to any of them until she had taken a nice, long wash at the nearest camp and confined herself to her tent for several hours at least - and she wouldn't lay eyes on Morrigan ever again. 


	8. Chapter 8

Whether they’d been cowed into silence or were buried in their own shame, none of the four women said a word as their party descended down the ridge line. Not until the ruins were well in the distance did Herah open her mouth, and even then, she was careful to speak softly enough that only one other person could hear her. “So, Sera,” she began tentatively, “Do you think we should talk?”

Sera looked up from the rock she’d been kicking down the path. “Talk? About what?”

“Well, there was that kiss.” She put on her most winning smile as she spoke, trying to make it clear that while they might need to discuss what had happened, that didn’t mean Herah considered it a problem.

“Oh, yeah. That.” A goofy grin covered Sera’s face and Herah felt a surge of optimism. In the past, their flirtations had been followed by quick retreats, and she’d worried that after the elf had taken the brunt of the artifact’s power, history would repeat itself. “Not sure why we need to talk. Finally figured it out. I like you, and you like me, yeah?”

Can it really be that simple? “I kind of knew that already. But before, the stuff with my magic kept getting in our way. Is that not a problem anymore?”

Sera fidgeted before she spoke again, her slim hands fiddling with the string of her bow as she considered her response. “Magic’s still bollocks, but… but you’re not. I mean, you’re strange, but that doesn’t always have to be a bad thing, right?”

Herah smirked, and she decided to risk a little teasing. “Definitely not. I mean, I like you, don’t I?”

A burst of laughter escaped Sera’s throat, causing the other two women to look up at them. Neither said anything though, Morrigan just giving the couple a dismissive roll of her eyes while Cassandra’s gaze quickly returned to the ground. Once their attention had departed, Sera continued. “See, that why I like you, Inky. For a high and mighty Inquisitor mage lady person, you’re still real funny.” She gave Herah an approving look, one that sent a little thrill down the Inquisitor’s spine. “That, and tall. Real tall.”

“That’s it? Funny and tall is all it takes to win you over?”

“They’re good. But no. You… you’re solid. Like, I knew you wouldn’t leave me there with that stupid eye brain thing. That you’d make it stop.” Herah nodded, not sure what to add to that, but Sera seemed happy to keep directing the conversation. “There. That good? Does it make sense? Can we get on to the kissing and, you know, all other good bits? With our bits.”

She laughed at her own double entendre, although thankfully she was quieter this time, and Herah bent down to give her a quick peck on the lips. “I’d love to. Although we might want to wait a little bit longer, at least until we’re back to Skyhold.” Sera made a pouty face while Herah explained further. “Hey, I understand your frustration. Believe me, I do. But do you really think Morrigan and Cassandra are in the mood to listen to us?”

Sera's lips pulled into an uneven grin and a sly look crossed her face. "Prob'ly not." She cast what she obviously thought was a sneaky glance back in Cassandra and Morrigan's direction. Both of them frowned at her, but she didn't seem perturbed. "But they've got no room to talk, yeah? We had to watch them rolling around in the middle of spooky magic ruins. Least they can do is pretend not to hear the noises coming from your tent."

Herah winced, flashing Cassandra and Morrigan a look of apology. Cassandra refused to meet her eyes, while Morrigan's upper lip curled with barely-contained disgust. "You might not want to bring that up anymore," Herah whispered. "And it wouldn't hurt to lower your voice either."

But Sera was hardly listening. "I don't think so," she sang. Her measured pace became more of a skip, and her uneven bangs bounced above her eyes. "You can bet your breeches I'm telling everyone once we get back to Skyhold."

A choked gasp came from behind them, and Herah didn't need to turn back to imagine the look of horror on Cassandra's face. She and the Seeker both began to protest, but Morrigan beat them to it. "T'would be most unwise of you to do so. I had figured you for a fool since our first meeting, but this surpasses all my expectations, low as they were."

Sera stopped in the middle of the path and whirled around. The gleeful look on her face disappeared, and she stuck out her jaw in defiance. "And who's gonna stop me? You? Because that stuck-up, snotty, 'I'm-better-than-you' attitude doesn't work so well after I've seen you with your smallclothes down."

Once again, Herah prepared to intervene before Sera ended up as a smear on the path, but to her surprise, Morrigan remained outwardly calm. "The thing you hate most in the world is people in positions of power who abuse those without it, yes?" She didn't bother waiting for a response, although her expression and posture still radiated icy contempt. "The Tevinter artifact removed our power of restraint, and instead of sympathizing with that, you have chosen to further humiliate Seeker Pentaghast. It seems to me that your behavior is not unlike that of the nobles you claim to despise."

Sera's shoulders slumped, and she had the decency to look ashamed of herself. "Andraste's tits, you're awful even when you're talking sense," she mumbled, turning back around and continuing swiftly down the path. Herah mouthed a quick 'well done' at Morrigan before hurrying to catch up with her. Thankfully, it only took a few strides with her longer legs and once they were together again, Sera's face brightened. "I'll only make fun of them to you then, yeah?"

Herah sighed and shook her head, giving Sera a resigned look. "All right, it’s a deal. I'm not sure you'll be able to help yourself anyway."

Sera smirked. "Oh, don’t be so glum. Y'might like it when I decide to put on a re-enactment."

* * *

Cassandra slowed her pace, allowing Sera and the Inquisitor to put several dozen yards between them; far enough, she hoped, to shield her from any further conversation. Although Morrigan had done an excellent job of stopping Sera's smart comments, Cassandra knew the peace wouldn't last. She tried to keep her eyes fixed firmly on her feet, but they kept drifting up and settling on the woman who had remained beside her. It wasn’t surprising that Morrigan had chosen to walk with her instead of Sera, but she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Part of her wanted to stay as far away from the witch as possible. Simply looking at her brought back uncomfortable memories, and Cassandra’s embarrassment was still fresh. However, she found herself grateful for the company as silence set in. It was good of Morrigan to have come to her defense, even though it was likely for the witch’s own benefit. She cleared her throat, trying to dislodge the nervous lump there. "That was tactfully done," she said at last, hoping her voice didn't sound too strained. 

"Life in the Orlesian court demands tact," Morrigan said. "I was not raised to understand the thoughts and motivations of others, but my position forced me to learn quickly. I will admit, it has proven useful at times."

Cassandra stole another glance. She couldn't stop staring at the way Morrigan's pale, slender arms moved as she walked. Those same arms had been wrapped around her a little over an hour ago, and the thought made her stomach lurch uncomfortably. "It certainly has in this case. I doubt Sera will continue bothering you."

Morrigan laughed. "The elf doesn't have the power to bother me, at least not by referring to what happened in the ruins. I am not ashamed of my body's urges. No, that was done on your behalf." Cassandra's eyes widened. Her jaw gaped as she struggled to process that statement, but Morrigan didn't seem to notice. "The constant chatter, however... that might indeed drive me mad, regardless of the topic.”

“Well, whatever your reasons, it was appreciated.” 

She didn’t entirely mean it though. The motives did matter. There was something about the idea of Morrigan defending her that made Cassandra twitch. She couldn’t quite explain the feeling, but it was safer and more comfortable to believe that the witch simply didn’t want to listen to Sera any longer.

“‘T’was nothing,” Morrigan replied dismissively. “Strange as it may seem, we seem to find ourselves with a mutual interest in moving past this particular situation, so perhaps I might offer you a morsel of advice. Taunts can only harm you if you put stock in them. It is true that if foolishly indulged, desire can be a weakness, but in itself, it is only natural. Since it was the magic that made us forget our restraint, there is no shame in what we did.”

Cassandra wanted to believe in what Morrigan was saying, but her formulation was too simple. “But why did we want to do that, of all things?”

Morrigan shrugged. “Who can say? The answer to such questions is as elusive as any lost art of the Imperium. Consider the Inquisitor. An intelligent enough woman, a capable mage, and now a personage of great power. One would expect her to be paired with some duke or princess. Instead, she finds herself drawn to an odd little rogue who constantly spews vulgarity and nonsense, and whose main talent is aiming pointed wooden shafts at people she finds objectionable. I should like to think that the idea that you and I feel some measure of physical attraction toward one another is no more ridiculous than that.”

In spite of her distress, the description of Sera was enough to draw a small smile out of Cassandra. “Perhaps you are right.”

“That we would never have acted on those feelings without the influence of magic is of no account. We did what we did, but now that is in the past. ‘Tis no use worrying about what others may think of that.”

With a sigh, Cassandra turned away from Morrigan, staring out into the vast, desolate sands of the Western Approach. In truth, it wasn’t really Sera’s taunts or even the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of the Inquisitor that bothered her. Perhaps to someone like Morrigan, it seemed natural to have attraction so decoupled from emotion, but Cassandra had never thought of herself as such a person.

The notion that she could have wanted a woman who so thoroughly frustrated her was not one that sat well with her. And she hadn’t just wanted Morrigan. She had needed her, hungered for the witch’s body with an urgency that she had never felt before. The magic had sharpened her cravings perhaps, and it had certainly blotted out her good sense, but the further they got from the ruins, the harder it was to blame Tevinter sorcery entirely for her predicament.

Not when Morrigan was still there, walking beside her. Not when the sight of her pale skin, so tantalizing revealed by the tattered remains of her clothing, was still drawing Cassandra’s gaze every time she so much as glanced in the witch’s direction. Not when it was become undeniable that, no matter how horrifying the truth might be, she really was drawn to Morrigan.

Maker help me.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time the group set up camp for the night at one of the Inquisition's outposts, Sera had fallen into a rare reflective mood. Tormenting Cassandra and Morrigan had ceased to become entertaining hours earlier, and her mind had wandered on to other things. Things like the tall, muscular woman who was currently crouched over the kindling, coaxing it to life with her hands. The evening shadows made Herah’s grey skin seem darker than usual, but there was just enough light from the embers to show that she was smiling.

Sera liked to think that smile was for her. A grin of her own pulled at her lips, and as she thought back on the day's events, it spread even wider. If anyone had told her that being chased by demons and zapped by a cursed Fade artifact could result in anything good, she would have called them crazy. But now that the danger had passed, her first instinct wasn't to think of how frightened she had been, or how close she had come to dying. Instead, she remembered the way Herah had rushed to her rescue. How Herah had forgiven her, even though she had bolted at the first touch of dangerous magic. And when she had finally made up for her cowardice by placing her trust in Herah, that faith had not been misplaced.

There was something more than attraction between them. Something worth putting up with the waggly glowing fingers and the staves and the balls of fire that flew too close to her head for comfort whenever they fought together. Herah was a woman worth hanging on to, despite her eccentricities. A woman she could see herself falling in love with. Maybe she had even seen it before, and that potential was what had frightened her more than all the magic in Thedas. But she wasn't frightened now. Instead, she felt positively giddy as Herah let out a whoop of triumph and stepped back from the fire pit, excited about their newly expressed feelings for each other, and eager to see what they could build together.

Not to mention exploring the other good bits of being with someone, she thought as she admired the shapely swell of Herah's backside. Unfortunately, she didn't get to admire it for long as Herah turned around and headed for the log where Sera had perched herself. "Well, I did it. I built a fire without conjuring it. Be proud of me."

That explained why Herah looked so smug, but Sera still didn't understand what she had been trying to accomplish. "First off, fire's easy. Weren't you a mercenary before this? I thought all you pirate-y types could do things like set fires."

Herah wasn't offended. Instead, she laughed, and Sera felt herself grow warm even though the wind was blowing the smoke from the fire in the opposite direction. "Come on, Sera, I thought you’d appreciate the effort. Besides, I know you're funny about magic, but don't tell me you wouldn't snap your fingers and just make it appear if you could."

"Fair enough," she admitted. After a moment, she scooted aside and patted the empty space on the log beside her. "Whatchoo waiting for, then? A fancy invitation on gold Orlesian stationary? Plant your arse down here." Herah sat, and Sera leaned in, resting against the side of the Inquisitor’s arm since she was too short to reach her shoulder. "I'm not funny about all magic, yeah?" she whispered after a moment. "I think your type's nice. Still don't want it near my face, because it's fire and all, but it's helped us.  You've helped  me. "

Herah seemed to sense that the conversation had shifted to something more serious. A strong arm folded around Sera’s shoulders, giving the rogue a more comfortable place to rest. "Not that I mind the compliments, but I think we've already had this conversation."

"Good." Sera shifted beneath the circle of the arm, turning so she had a good view of Herah's face. The fire filled out the hollow places beneath her high cheekbones, but despite the angular planes of her features, her eyes were dark and soft. "Then you won't mind this..."

Herah leaned down at the same time Sera tilted up. It took a moment for them to find each other, but when their lips met, both of them melted. Sera held still at first, clinging to that initial, powerful feeling, but her contentment didn't last long. Soon, they both began moving, her arms wrapping around Herah’s body while the Inquisitor’s hand cupped the back of her head, pulling her deeper into the embrace.

It was an intoxicating sensation. Though this wasn’t their first kiss, it was one that was finally free of the hesitations and fears that had held Sera back before. She lost herself in it, drinking in the warmth of Herah’s mouth. It felt as if that heat was traveling to every part of her body: her limbs, her chest, and most especially settling between her legs. When, at last, their lips slid mere inches apart, she suggested, “Maybe we should head for your tent then, yeah?”

Herah raised an eyebrow and lowered her voice to a sultry purr that made Sera’s heart beat faster. “Good idea. After all, I think there’s already been enough accidental voyeurism for one day.”

Sera smirked at that before her humor gave way to enthusiasm. She practically yanked Herah to her feet, and the two women stumbled through the Inquisition camp, unwilling to entirely break their physical connection even in the interest of greater speed. Sera felt positively giddy, drunk on the thrilling prospect of something she had long fantasized about while fearing that it would never actually happen.

Pushing aside the flaps of the Inquisitor’s large tent, Sera led them inside before searching out the lantern she knew Herah kept there. As she lit it, she offered up a smile. “Want to make sure to have a good view of this. ‘Cause you, I mean…” Her words trailed off into a stew of lustful thoughts and she just repeated, “Really need to have a good view.”

A light sprang into existence and in its flickering glow, Sera could see one of Herah’s eyebrows rise. “A good view, huh? Of what, exactly?” She stripped as she spoke, undoing her leathers and breeches while keeping her eyes locked with Sera’s. As more and more of her skin was unveiled, Sera had to check and make sure she wasn’t actually drooling on herself. She’d spent far too much time imagining what Herah might look like naked, but this met even her inflated expectations.

The Inquisitor’s body was tall, dark, and very, very delectable. Sera was hungry to run her tongue over every inch of it, to tease the firm tips of her breasts and kiss the grooves of muscle on her abdomen, but she made herself wait until Herah had bared everything before she pounced. She leapt into her arms, planting kisses on her lover’s throat and collarbone while her hands ran along the powerful lines of her arms.

Herah let out a laugh at her enthusiasm, but when Sera’s mouth reached her full breasts, the mirth turned into the first of what she hoped would be many moans. She lavished attention on the large, dark nipples, sucking on them until they were diamonds in her mouth, but her fun didn’t last forever. Distracted as she was by what she was doing, she scarcely noticed Herah moving until she was flat on her back on the bedroll.

“I want a look too,” Herah declared before getting to work on removing the rogue’s clothes. She started with her shirt, but it wasn’t long before she too got distracted. Instead of moving lower than Sera’s waist, she started nibbling playfully her chest, and Sera tried to help out, yanking her own tights down off her ass. Somewhere around her ankles though, the feel of hot lips sliding over her breasts made her lose her coordination entirely.

The tease of Herah's tongue sent fire flickering through the rest of her body. Sera found her hips arching without conscious thought, and low noises vibrated in her throat as she struggled to sort through the intense sensations. Her hands refused to settle in one place, digging into the bedroll one moment and squeezing Herah's shoulders the next. Once they’d met naked skin though, she couldn't bear to give it up. Her palms roamed the broad, muscular expanse of Herah's back, learning the contours she had only felt beneath fabric before.

She tried speak, to give Herah a playful nudge downward, but the steady pressure of her lover’s mouth was almost too good to give up. It was large enough to swallow most of her breast, but always seemed to find the most sensitive places. Sera’s words died halfway to her lips, and all she could manage was a groan of desire and frustration. Part of her had imagined their first time would be playful, but even though Herah was taking the time to tease her, she felt the deliberate sincerity behind every touch.

It wasn't until those wide, dark eyes stared up at her with the glint of the lantern-light in them that she finally caught her breath. "Sera," the Inquisitor whispered, dragging a hand down along the twitching muscles of her stomach. Her calloused palm was broad enough to cover most of its surface, but exquisitely gentle all the same. "Could I..."

Sera didn't know whether to be frustrated or amused. "Inky," she groaned, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. The pet name made Herah smile, and Sera felt another sharp stab of desire between her legs. Those dark lips really were beautiful, and she suspected they were good for more than just kissing. "Get your pretty mouth down there now and show me what else you can do with it besides gab, yeah?"

Hera's grin grew even wider. She started a string of kisses, and Sera shivered as the winding trail led lower and lower. Soon, the ticklish pecks and wet nips were scattered across her thighs and she parted them instinctively, while her hands finally found a permanent home - clutching the curved horns on top of Herah's head.  Knew there was a reason I liked 'em, she thought, reflecting back on some of the fantasies she had indulged in during quieter moments.  Good for more than just show.

Then blissful warmth enveloped her, and her admiring thoughts splintered apart. Aside from her hot and cold flirting with Herah and several nights spent alone in her bunk, it had been a good while since her last sexual encounter. Her body wasn't prepared to process so much pleasure at once. She cried out, freezing and shivering since she couldn't decide whether to pull away or rock forward. The heat that slid between her lips and skimmed over the stiff bud of her clit was unexpectedly soft, but it threatened to undo her all the same. She clenched her teeth, choking back curses as that same heat folded around her and tugged, the rogue clutching even harder at Herah's horns.

Fortunately, Herah didn't seem to mind the pressure. When Sera glanced down to watch the show between her legs, she noticed that indeed, the Inquisitor seemed very pleased with herself. Her mouth was busy, but the rest of her face was smiling, especially her eyes. She seemed to glow every time a swirl of her tongue or the careful graze of her teeth drew out a reaction. Sera couldn't help but give them to her. Even if she'd wanted to, the sounds that slipped out every time Herah did something right wouldn't be stifled.

Fuck it. Let her be smug. She’s bloody well earning it.

Herah finally grew tired of teasing, instead setting to work in earnest. Her tongue seemed to touch Sera everywhere, running through her folds and across the length of her clit all at once and when it slid inside, Sera gasped. It was so thick that it felt as if Herah was fucking her with it, dragging its length against her aching front wall before pressing down. Sera rocked her hips against Herah’s face, desperate for everything she could get. Repeated thrusts of that marvelous tongue had her arousal spilling out over her lover’s chin, but it wasn’t enough by itself to push her over the edge.

It was still wonderful, though. Herah showed the same care as a lover that she always had as a friend, her affection clear even through the haze of Sera’s lust. “Andraste’s tits, Inky,” she murmured. “‘S-so good, don’t… don’t stop.”

Rather than answer with words, Herah slid upward, drinking in a little more of Sera’s arousal before returning to her clit. The hard ridge jumped as soon as she made contact with it. Every stroke was an electric thrill, and Sera could already feel her climax stirring in her core. Her hands tightened around Herah’s horns, and when her lower body began to buck and thrash, her lover returned the favor, gripping her ass to better hold her in place.

Sera’s thighs squeezed around Herah’s head as the final threads of her restraint snapped. She locked onto her lover’s eyes, those dark, soulful eyes that she adored, and the burning lust she saw there was the last straw. The charge in her clit spread out to every corner of her body, her slim frame tensing for long seconds and then relaxing into ripples of delight. Her arms slumped off of Herah’s head, and she was unable to do anything but flop limply onto the bedroll, a string of mumbled endearments falling from her mouth while Herah’s tongue coaxed out every last drop of her pleasure.

“So,” Herah asked, traces of Sera’s orgasm still glistening on her chin, “Was that worth all the waiting we did?”

“Mm, definitely.” Sera’s voice was still unsteady and her limbs felt like jelly, but the sight of the gorgeous, naked woman framed by lantern-light was enough to motivate her to try and find her composure. She brushed a few strands of hair away from her face before reaching a trembling hand up to Herah’s thigh. The skin there was warm beneath her, and her lover’s clear eagerness for more drew Sera upwards.

She fell into Herah’s waiting arms, running her lips along the line of her collarbone.  It wasn’t easy for her to move the larger woman down to the bedroll, so she coaxed her there with her touch instead. The Inquisitor took the hint, flipping onto her back and spreading her legs. In spite of her size, she looked remarkably vulnerable laid out like that. Just then, Herah didn’t seem appear as an Inquisitor or a mage, just an incredibly aroused woman whose body was begging for Sera’s care.

It was a reassuring thought, as well as an arousing one, and Sera licked her lips in anticipation. She ran her hands over the firm expanse of Herah’s skin, able to simply enjoy the silky feel of it under her fingertips without worrying about anything else. A low moan vibrated in Herah’s throat, a sound that made Sera’s own body hum in reply. She took a dark nipple between her lips, and the noise grew louder. Herah’s hand gripped her head, and she groaned, “Please, Sera...”

She gave Herah’s nipple a little tug with her teeth before lifting up her head. “Need a little more, then?”

“Oh, hell yes.” Hunger dripped from every word Herah spoke, and Sera relished this new sense of control. She began kissing down the Inquisitor's body, lingering in the places that Sera dizzy with delight, and she teased until Herah lost patience. Those large, lovely hands that had brought her body pleasure earlier now pushed down on her head, relatively gentle, but still insistent. "Sera, come on, I need..."

"I know what you need," she hummed, letting a few giggles escape as she planted ticklish kisses in a circle around Herah's navel. She nipped a patch of skin there before draping her lover’s muscled legs over her shoulders and sinking between them. She was relieved to discover that Herah didn't look too much different there than she did. Her outer lips were plumper, and her inner folds were a delightful shade of dark purple bordering on black, but the shape was similar. Her clit was already straining at attention, and every inch of her sex glistened.

Sera didn't hesitate. She wasn't going to waste any more time looking when she could touch and taste. Her fingertips ran back and forth between Herah's slick folds, exploring them before she finally lowered her head. The flavor that spread across her tongue was salty and sweet all at once, and heavy in a good way. She let her tongue swipe across the folds for a moment before sliding up to suck on the tempting bud waiting above Herah's entrance.

As soon as her lips made contact, Herah stiffened. Blunt fingers tangled in Sera's already disheveled hair, and even more wetness spilled into her mouth. The flood only increased her determination. She experimented, trying to find the pressure and stroke Herah would respond to best. Circles earned her low moans, while steady sucking with the seal of her lips made them rise in pitch. She congratulated herself whenever Herah's voice broke and every time she shivered. Sera had always liked being a generous lover, but these reactions enthralled her more than anything she could remember. She craved more, almost as much as she had craved her own pleasure, and so she added her fingers. The Inquisitor was surprisingly tight around her, and each stroke of Sera’s hand earned her fresh wetness. 

After a few minutes though, she realized that her explorations were driving Herah close to the point of no return. Her lover was a mess of sighs and shudders, and her hips rocked desperately in search of more whenever Sera drew her hand back or slowed down. She began a steady thrusting motion, hooking her fingers every time she pulled out, and she lashed her tongue at what she hoped was a good speed. As much as she loved Herah's pleasure, she really wanted to see the end result. She had spent far too many nights imagining what it would be like to make this woman come, and she was determined to experience the reality now.

It didn't take much more. One final push of her fingers and one more swirl of her tongue, and Herah shattered beneath her. The hands on the back of her head trembled, as if Herah was afraid of clutching too hard, but the rest of her muscles clenched tight. A powerful pulse rocked her entire body, and Sera's heart swelled as even more warmth ran over her chin. The stiff bud between her lips throbbed, and she lavished attention on the tip before dipping down to taste her well-earned reward.

Herah was even more delicious when she was coming. Sera removed her fingers and worked her tongue in as far as it would go, sighing with happiness. Bringing Herah over the edge had been even better than she had hoped. She savored the moment as long as she could, continuing until well after her lover’s body had calmed and her contractions had diminished to soft flutters. Only then did Sera lift her head, running her tongue proudly over her glistening lips.  Between her legs, her own clit was already aching once more, the sheer delight of tasting Herah enough to inflame her desire.

"Well?" she asked before the Inquisitor had even caught her breath. "... Again, yeah?"

Herah laughed at her enthusiasm, and a wide grin stretched across her face. She patted the space beside her on the bedroll, and Sera climbed up to cuddle happily against her side. "Definitely. Give me a minute to recover, and I'll be ready for round two."


	10. Chapter 10

The staircase leading up to the rookery had never felt steeper. It wasn’t physical fatigue; the two days since their expedition had returned to from the Western Approach had given Cassandra ample time to recover from the exhaustion of the road. No, the problem was more in her churning guts than her legs, but in spite of her anxiety, she pressed onward. She didn’t trust anyone else to help her with this problem, and she definitely needed help.

When she finally reached the top of the stairs, Leliana was waiting for her, birds and papers set aside for the moment. The bard had become increasingly grim of late, but today, a small smile pulled at her lips and there was a twinkle in her green eyes.

Does she already know?

“Cassandra? It’s lovely to finally see you again.” There was a teasing note in Leliana’s voice, which didn’t surprise Cassandra. Normally, she came to see her friend much sooner after returning from a mission, and even if she didn’t yet know the reason for the delay, Leliana was too astute not to suspect something was amiss.

She sighed and slumped back against the railing. Without it there, it would be all too easy to fall the several stories down to tower floor: a fall which, just then, didn’t seem like the worst thing that could happen to a person. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner. It’s not that I was ignoring you. I have been thinking about… things.”

Leliana settled into her desk chair, regarding her with a bemused smile. “And what things might those be?”

Cassandra hesitated before answering. She had intended to get Leliana’s advice, but now that she was here, actually saying what had happened aloud was proving to be a struggle. “You must know that Morrigan came with us to the Western Approach,” she began at last.

The grin did not leave Leliana’s face. “I would be a very poor spymaster if I did not. Please, go on.”

She took a deep breath, summoning her courage. If she could face demons and dragons, she could admit what she’d done, at least to someone she trusted not to judge her for it. “While we were there, we encountered an artifact left behind by the ancient Tevinter. It drew on the energy of a rift in order to…” She stopped and tried again. “It affected our minds, and while under its influence, we….” Her head bowed and her voice dropped so low that Leliana had to lean forward to hear her. “Morrigan and I became sexually involved.”

Leliana didn’t seem to be surprised by the revelation, but she was sympathetic, her smile giving way to a look of concern. “I can see how that might be upsetting. I know what it is to have my mind affected by magic.” Cassandra bit her lip. Leliana had told her about her encounter with the Sloth demon inside the Circle Tower, how it had tempted her with visions of a peaceful life spent in prayer and contemplation before the Warden had come to rescue her. If only Cassandra’s own experience had been so simple.

“It was upsetting, but not in the way you’re thinking.”  She couldn’t meet Leliana’s eyes as she explained. “It was... the best I’ve ever had.” She didn’t have the most extensive range of romantic experiences to draw on, but she’d never felt anything like the burning, unquenchable passion of that day. Even now, remembering it made her skin tingle, no matter how much she might have wished otherwise.

“Oh, my.” Leliana fought gamely to keep a smirk off of her face, but Cassandra knew her well enough to recognize the struggle.

“Do you think you could try not to be amused by my plight?”

Leliana got up from the chair and walked over to join her by the railing, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I am sorry. Truly. It is only, Morrigan… it is strange to imagine the two of you together.”

Cassandra slumped down even further, planting herself on the ground beneath the bard. “Do you think it seems normal to me, Leliana? I can barely tolerate the woman. And a woman… I had not even thought myself interested in them that way. Maker, none of this is anything I had ever considered.”

“Perhaps it was simply the effects of the artifact rather than any desire of yours that made it pleasurable?”

Something in Leliana’s tone suggested she didn’t believe that, and Cassandra decided not to tell her the same lie she had failed to convince herself of. “No. The Inquisitor discovered that the artifact only brought our desires to the surface. It didn’t make us do anything some part of us had not considered. And besides…” She hesitated before beginning the final part of her confession.  

“Besides, what?” Concern and interest warred in Leliana’s voice.

“It was not simply what happened in the ruins that’s troubling me. I have been thinking about Morrigan since then.” She knew her face must be practically the color of her friend’s hair, but she made herself continue. “In that way. That’s why I came to you. I have little skill in these matters. You must have some idea what I can do. How I can rid myself of these feelings, or how best to deal with them. Please help me.”

Leliana gave a small sigh, and her smile vanished. "You know better than most how difficult it is to make our feelings disappear. The Maker gave them to us for a reason. Better to let them run their course without casting judgment on yourself than to go off into the wilderness for another year of fasting and prayer."

"Part of me wishes I could do that," Cassandra grumbled. Her face remained fixed in a frown, but she sensed that Leliana could see the vulnerability behind it. Although they didn’t always agree, the spymaster had learned to read her with startling accuracy even when other people couldn't. 

"Surely you do not wish to give Morrigan such power over you. It would only make her arrogant."

Cassandra's brow furrowed. Another image of Morrigan flashed in her mind, one in which her arms were crossed and her delicate chin was tilted up in a superior way. The witch had a way of gazing down her nose at someone even when they were taller than she was. "Isn't she already?"

"Please, Cassandra. I am attempting to be serious." Leliana knelt beside her until their faces were level, staring directly into her eyes and refusing to let her look away. "You may try and dismiss this as Morrigan has done, but denying your emotions will only give them more power over you.  You are a passionate woman despite being a Seeker, and you should not deny your nature. Instead, turn it into a strength. Be honest with yourself, explore what you are feeling, and then decide on a logical course of action from there."

"You almost sound as though you want me to repeat the experience," Cassandra mumbled.

"Not necessarily. I did say a logical course of action, after all. But pretending it never happened is not logical. At least, not for you."

"Perhaps." She averted her eyes as soon as she was able, but Leliana was difficult to look away from. Cassandra stared into her lap instead, rubbing one thumb over a callus on the opposite hand. It was a pity all the extra hours of training these last few days had done nothing to erase the haunting memories from her mind. "I think you might be right. The sooner I accept what happened and understand the reasons behind it, the sooner I can move on. There must be some reason beyond the physical for my attraction to her. If I can figure out what it is..." She paused, hesitating as she remembered Leliana's earlier words. "Wait. Who told you that Morrigan tried to dismiss what happened between us?"

"I assumed," Leliana said, rising back to her feet and returning to her desk.

"You assumed? And what, exactly, prompted that assumption?"

"I have spent a good deal of time in Morrigan’s company. She is an expert at ignoring feelings, both her own and those of the people around her."

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. In spite of Leliana’s skill as a liar, she still wasn't convinced. "Forgive me for prying, but you did not seem very surprised when I told you what happened in the Western Approach. Is being intimate with Morrigan really something you might have expected of me?"

"Magic is often unexpected," Leliana replied coyly.

"Answer the question."

The spymaster folded her arms on top of her desk, all business once more. "No. It isn't something I might have expected of you."

"I knew it." Cassandra jumped to her feet, her vulnerability and confusion giving way to anger. If Leliana had already known about her regrettable encounter with Morrigan, there were only three possible sources of her information: The Inquisitor, Sera, and the witch herself. It didn't take a brilliant mind to deduce the most likely suspect. "It was Sera, wasn't it?" she snapped, rounding on Leliana. "She told you."

Leliana returned her look of fury with one of surprise. "No. Sera didn't tell me anything..."

"Then you heard it from someone else, and she told them. The irresponsible little miscreant! Maker preserve me, all of Skyhold probably knows by now."

"Cassandra..."

Leliana tried to call her back, but she shook her head, storming off toward the stairs. "Thank you for the advice, Spymaster, but I fear I have an urgent problem to attend to." She headed out of the rookery without waiting for a response, stomping down the steps two at a time and clenching her hands into fists. When she caught up with Sera, she was going to make sure the rogue regretted it.

***

She started her search with the garish room in the tavern Sera called home, but when her quarry wasn’t there, Cassandra moved on to Skyhold proper. Her next thought had been that the elf was with her new lover, but when Varric informed her that the Inquisitor was busy with Josephine, that too was ruled out. Without any further leads, she was reduced to stalking through the castle more or less at random in search of the damnable rogue.

As she scanned every nook and crevice for the spot where Sera might be hiding, Cassandra could feel her anger building. It wasn’t enough that she’d humiliated herself under the influence of the artifact. Now that depraved reprobate had to spread her shame to rest of the Inquisition. Though the stormclouds above her head kept anyone else from speaking to her, she could only imagine what they must be thinking.  The noble Seeker, caught rutting on the ground with an Apostate.  She would see be the butt of every joke in Skyhold before the day’s end.

By the time she finally found Sera, a black rage had enveloped her thoughts, blotting out everything but a desire for revenge. The rogue was lounging on one of the walls overlooking the courtyards, and at the sight of her, Cassandra snapped. “Get down here! Immediately!”

Sera vaulted down off of her perch, landing a few yards away from Cassandra. “What’s that, then? Knickers inna twist again, yeah?”

“Do not play dumb with me, Sera. Not that it’s much of an act with you. Who did you tell?”

The elf crinkled up her face, feigning ignorance remarkably well for someone who Cassandra had never thought of as skilled at deception. “Tell who about what now?”

They were already drawing a few stares from some of the soldiers in the courtyard and on the faint hope those that those watching didn’t know her secret yet, Cassandra refrained from saying it aloud. “You bloody well know what I’m talking about.” She narrowed her eyes menacingly at the same time she dropped her voice. “The thing you promised Morrigan you wouldn’t reveal after we returned to Skyhold.”

“Oh, that thing.” That infuriating smirk Cassandra had become all too familiar with covered Sera’s face. “Yeah, didn’t tell anyone. So piss off. Go punch a mage, or whatever you do for fun when you’re not doing... that.”

Her strike came so quickly that even the nimble elf wasn’t able to evade it. She caught Sera with one hand, grabbing her and pressing her up against the stone wall behind them. A part of her wanted to simply starting hitting, to find a physical outlet for the frustration that had been building up inside of her ever since that day in the ruins, but she had just enough self-control left to stay her hand. Instead, she resorted to yelling.

“I do not know why you’re bothering to lie, you little delinquent. Leliana is aware of what happened, which means you either told her yourself, or told someone else who did, and since I cannot imagine anyone else who was there being foolish enough to…”

“T’was not her.”

She spun around at the sound of Morrigan’s voice, allowing her captive to slip out of her grasp as she did. With a parting shot of “Bloody daft bint,” Sera scurried off, but Cassandra scarcely paid her any mind. Instead, her attention was held entirely by the woman now staring at her with a disdainful look on her irritatingly pretty face.

“What do you mean?” She was scarcely able to believe that Morrigan herself could be the source of Leliana’s information, and yet she doubted the witch would’ve let Sera off the hook unless she was sure of her innocence.

Morrigan crooked her finger, beckoning Cassandra to follow as she turned around. “Come with me. I doubt very much that either of us wants to continue this conversation in full view of the rest of the Inquisition.”

Suddenly conscious of growing crowd she had attracted, Cassandra obeyed the suggestion without protest, following Morrigan toward a small supply room located in one of the nearby towers. Her head spun as she walked. Every time she thought she had hit bottom, the Maker seemed to delight in proving her wrong. She had just made a fool of herself in front of everyone, she would probably have to apologize to Sera for falsely accusing her, and worse still, she was about to be trapped with Morrigan in a confined space yet again. If things were going to get more humiliating, she couldn’t imagine how.


	11. Chapter 11

Once they were inside, Morrigan closed the door behind them. She watched in silence as Cassandra slumped onto one of the crates, the Seeker deliberately avoiding her eyes. She seemed drained of her anger, and instead, a strange melancholy had taken its place. The only sign of life in her limp body was the way her fingers drummed nervously on top of her thighs. Judging by the dark bruises beneath her eyes, Morrigan suspected she hadn't slept well since their return to Skyhold.

Although it was contrary to her nature, she felt strangely compelled to offer Cassandra comfort. She didn't have much experience with reassuring people, but seeing the Seeker in such a disheveled, hopeless state was almost upsetting. _What is becoming of me?_ she wondered, brow furrowing as she studied the warrior's drawn, pale face. The slashing scar across her cheek stood out even more than usual. _Soon I shall be as horrible as the Warden, offering embraces and rescuing kittens from trees._

"Well?" Cassandra sighed, looking up at her with tortured eyes. "Why did you bring me here? Surely you have some kind of unsatisfying explanation prepared."

Morrigan waited for Cassandra's tone to annoy her, but instead of sounding rude, it only came across as defeated. "My explanation is simpler than you might think. Due to your intense dislike of me..." Cassandra gave a rough snort, and Morrigan rolled her eyes. "You needn't scoff, Seeker. 'Tis more than obvious that your opinion is even less favorable than it was before. As I was saying, you might imagine that a person such as myself has no friends to consult with. You would be mistaken."

It was Cassandra's turn to roll her eyes. "You would have me believe that you talked to Leliana because of your prior friendship? I thought the two of you couldn't stand each other."

"We have our differences," Morrigan admitted, "But the two of us have developed a wary, mutual trust as well. We have a shared past, a history of which you possess only a rudimentary understanding. I thought it wise to seek her council in this matter."

Some of Cassandra's energy returned. She abandoned her slouched pose and pushed up off the crate, surging forward a few steps. The move brought their faces close together in the tight confines of the storeroom, but Morrigan held her ground. She would not be moved by Cassandra's anger. In fact, she considered it a great improvement on her previous sulking. "Is that all it was to you? A silly matter to gossip about like some Chantry novice?"

"T'was hardly gossip," she said, ignoring the fast thud of her heart. Having Cassandra so close brought back uncomfortably intense memories. "I am being sincere with you. I needed council, so I sought it from one of the rare people I have grown to trust."

"And why would you need council?" Cassandra snapped. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and her upper lip peeled back over her teeth. She looked like a cornered animal, terrified enough to lash out even though she was the one on the offensive. "It was just bodies. Nothing unusual. Isn't that what you told me in the Western Approach?"

Morrigan hesitated. She did not want to reveal her own conflicted emotions - even she did not fully understand them - but she saw no other way. Perhaps actions would prove more useful than words. She wrapped a firm hand around the back of Cassandra's neck, dragging her down until their lips collided.

If Cassandra was surprised, it didn't show at first. Her body reacted as if she had been expecting the kiss all along. An eager tongue pushed between her lips, and a split second later, Morrigan found herself pinned to the nearest wall. She raked her nails along Cassandra's scalp and seized the Seeker's shirt with her free hand, determined to retain at least some control over the situation. It was something she wanted, maybe even needed, but part of it still frightened her for reasons her mind as yet couldn’t grip.

Her body had a clearer sense of what it was doing. Cassandra’s hands ran underneath her shirt and up her sides. Even before they reached the swell of her breasts, Morrigan felt her nipples stiffening.When contact was finally made, she moaned softly into the Seeker’s mouth, annoyed at herself for reacting so strongly, but unable to stifle the sound. All she could do was grip the other woman tighter, clutching at Cassandra’s back and head. Lust was pooling between her legs, and her inner muscles fluttered at the thought that the Seeker’s strong fingers would soon be pressed inside her again. The sharpness of this want was like nothing she could remember, and even without the power of the artifact, Morrigan felt as if she were under a spell.

 And then, without warning, Cassandra pulled back.  Her hands withdrew from beneath Morrigan’s clothes, and she yanked herself out of the embrace they had been locked in. “I cannot do this,” the Seeker insisted as she did her best to readjust her rumpled shirt.

 “You cannot?” The sudden loss of sensation was intensely frustrating, leaving in its wake a surge of anger. “Tis most obvious that you can. What you mean is that you will not, and I would have your reasons for teasing me like this.”

 Cassandra shook her head, though the target of her irritation was unclear. “I mean that I cannot do this to myself. I don’t want you to have such an effect on me, but you do. What happened in those ruins has been plaguing me ever since.”

 “So I am a plague then? I am not sure ‘tis worse than being an apostate, but I dislike it all the same.” She wasn’t sure why Cassandra’s rejection was having such a profound effect on her. Caring about the opinions of others was something she studiously avoided, and this ridiculous exchange was reminding her why that was a wise decision. _If only I could hold to my resolve._

 “You are twisting my words. That is not what I said.” Cassandra’s fists clenched in frustration and her brow furrowed. She stepped forward again, seemingly prepared to launch into another verbal assault, but as suddenly as it had flared, her anger seemed to evaporate. Her body slackened, and when she spoke again, she sounded older and wearier than her years. “I cannot simply dismiss what we did as a matter of the flesh, no matter how you or anyone else might counsel me, and since your feelings on that matter are clear, I cannot do it again either.”

Morrigan opened her mouth to reply, but words failed to come out. Things were not as simple as Cassandra was portraying them, but if she couldn’t sort out in her own mind what she was feeling, what explanation could she offer someone else? The Seeker kept looking at her though, clearly wanting some kind of answer, and so Morrigan said the only thing she thought might help. “I spoke to Leliana because I was not sure if you were hurt, and I thought she might have some notion as to your feelings. How was I to know that you had not spoken of this with her yet?”

Cassandra looked away from her, clearly taken aback by her words. “I… thank you for you concern. But my point stands. I cannot do this, whatever my desires might be.”

She turned to leave, and as the Seeker walked out of the storeroom with her shoulders slumped low, the urge to say more hit Morrigan with unexpected force. She had not told the whole truth moments earlier. Though she had been truly, and inexplicably, concerned about Cassandra, she had also had more selfish reasons for speaking with Leliana the previous day.

The Seeker was not the only one whose thoughts had lingered on their encounter in the desert, and Morrigan had hoped that talking with someone else might help to clarify her own feelings. Instead, she remained as baffled as ever, knowing only that the sight of Cassandra’s pain was causing an uncomfortable knot in her stomach, even while their aborted encounter had left a lingering ache between her legs.

 

* * *

 

The sound of profuse swearing made Herah look up from the book she had been reading. Normally, the interruption would have put her on edge. It wasn't often that she managed to steal a spare moment to herself, and Varric's latest offering was very entertaining. But she recognized the spitting, cursing voice at the other end of the garden without even looking up, and so she set her book aside with a small sigh and no complaints. "Sera?" she called out, standing up from the bench and heading over to the small figure she could see pacing by the stairs. "Sera, are you all right?"

Sera didn't even seem to register her approach. Instead, she continued fuming, stomping back and forth and occasionally throwing up her hands. "Frigging looney pissrag shiteface. What does she think she's playing at, slamming me against a wall like some bug? I've a mind to take that bloody great sword of hers and shove it straight up her arsehole 'til it gives her another scar on the other side of her stupid face..."

"Well, that explains who she's talking about,” Herah muttered to herself. When Sera still didn't acknowledge her presence, she decided to wait it out. Her lover's rage was fierce, but it was also mercifully brief most of the time. If she listened, she might also get a better idea of what Cassandra had done to infuriate Sera so.

"... where does she get off, blaming me for that snobby witch's gossip? Should have realized her mouth was as big as her stupid tits. And if Cassandra would stop drooling over 'em and pull her face away from her cunt long enough to ask me my side of things, I wouldn't have a bloody headache from cracking it against the frigging wall!"

Herah had to stifle a snort of laughter at the implausible statement. She knew she shouldn’t be so amused by Sera's unhappiness, or by whatever fresh awkwardness Cassandra and Morrigan had undoubtedly suffered, but she couldn't help herself. "I don't think Cassandra’s mouth could reach both at the same time," she said, but Sera continued to rage.

"I thought I hated the two of 'em before, but now they're just frigging unbearable! Maybe I shouldn't shove Cassandra's sword up her arse. Maybe I should get Morrigan to use that twisty staff of hers. But no, the High and Mighty Seeker would prob'ly enjoy that. At least it would keep them away from me! D'rather go back in the Fade than..."

At last, Herah succeeded in stopping Sera's tirade, but only by grabbing her shoulders and forcing eye contact. "Sera, why don't you calm down and tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help. Did Cassandra do something to upset you?"

"Upset? Do I _look_ upset, Inky?" Sera snapped, eyes flashing. "Oh yeah, Cassandra and I are best pals now, no sour feelings between us at all! She only roughed me up and blamed me for telling people about what happened when it was really Morrigan's bloody fault. Real winning behavior, yeah?"

Herah let out a long sigh. She supposed pretending that everything would return to normal without any effort on her part had been naive. "I'll talk to her," she promised, giving Sera's shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "She shouldn't have accused you without any proof. Even if she did suspect you of telling people about what we saw, she should have come to me first."

"I actually kept quiet about it," Sera said, and Herah was surprised to catch a small tremor in her voice. When she looked down, Sera's eyes were much brighter than usual, and her lower lip was shaking. "I know everyone here thinks I'm a joke, but I don't do pranks that hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it, and I don't break promises." Her brow knitted, and her mouth tugged into a frown. "But maybe I should have after what they did."

She pulled Sera into her arms, giving her a hug and placing a kiss on the top of her head. “Well, I’m still proud of you, even if those two didn’t appreciate your restraint.”

Sera took the opportunity to bury her face in Herah’s cleavage, her mood seeming to improve as she nuzzled closer. “Appreciate that, Inky. Still, though, we gotta do something about those jerks.”

“Yeah, but what? Normally, I’d say they need to get laid, but in this case, that’s more the problem than the solution.”

Sera laughter vibrated pleasantly against her breasts. “Heh, yeah. Most people, a proper boffing makes ‘em get nice and cheery. Miss Prissy Pants and Spooky Skank just got mopier and more pissed off than usual.”

Herah joined in on the laughter. “That’s true. But I think the mood-improving qualities of sex may work better if you’re not horribly embarrassed about what you did afterwards.”

Her words elicited a derisive snort. “Stupid tits are always embarrassed by the wrong stuff.  Stealing from little people or having shoes with gold buckles on ‘em while everybody else’s starving is the bad shit. Shagging is good.”  Sera threw her a naughty look, her tongue running over her lips. “‘Specially with you, Inky. But even with them, ’s not bad. I mean, sure, it was a bloody stupid spot for it, but whatever. No need to go slamming folks around just ‘cause you got off on the floor.”

Herah cupped her chin, stroking it with a large hand. “Hm, you know, that’s not a bad point. I wonder if….”

“Wonder what?”

“Well, let’s say you’re right. Maybe what those two need is to get past their their awkwardness. I mean, we know they wanted each other. If we could find a way to make them work out their problems and get together for real, it might put them in a better mood.”

Sera’s eyes widened incredulously. “Wait, you want us to fix them up? That’s daft. Those two are completely stupid hopeless.”  She paused, a range of emotions cycling across her face. “No, wait. It’s bloody brilliant. This’ll be the best caper yet.”

Herah grinned. “That’s what I’m thinking. Of course, for a job this big, we’re going to need some help…”


	12. Chapter 12

“Absolutely not,” Varric insisted. He looked like he wanted to laugh, although if he did, Sera wasn’t sure whether it would be in disbelief or terror. She was currently draped across Herah’s plush bed with her head hanging backwards over the edge, but even upside down, the dwarf’s reluctance was unmistakable. “The Seeker and I just got back on reasonable terms, and you want me to get on her bad side again? I want at least a couple weeks of peace without her glaring holes in my head.”

“But she likes you, Varric,” Herah insisted, using her most cajoling tone. She was seated on the edge of the bed as well, but in a proper, upright position. “That’s why I asked you to come up and talk to us. You’re one of her closest friends! Don’t you want her to be happy?”

Varric folded his arms over his chest, still not convinced. “Yes, but not as much as me and  I’ll be happiest if she isn’t trying to punch me in the face.”

Sera hid her snigger behind her hand. She already knew how this was going to play out, but watching her lover and Varric argue was sure to be entertaining. Almost as entertaining as convincing Cassandra and Morrigan that they would be better off annoying each other than everyone else at Skyhold. Although she had been doubtful at first, Herah had turned her opinion around, and now she was delighted at the prospect. Besides, it was a perfect opportunity for mischief. “Don’t worry about Cassandra, yeah? If all goes right, she’ll be rubbing her bits on Morrigan’s face instead of punching yours.”

Herah’s dark grey cheeks took on a purple tinge, and even Varric’s usually unshakable sarcasm wavered with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m still not sure I believe all this. The Seeker and the Witch, succumbing to their hidden, smouldering passion in an abandoned ruin full of demons trying to kill them. Even  I wouldn’t write that. It stretches reader credulity too far.”

“You have to admit, it would make a great story,” Herah said. “Two opposites, resistant at first, but coming together in the end to experience true love…”

Varric snorted. “I’m not so sure about true love, Inquisitor. If I had to bet, I’d put my coin on them killing each other within a week.”

“You’d give ‘em that long?” Sera asked. She flipped over onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands and letting her heels wave back and forth through the air. “Woof. I don’t think they’d last a day. They barely made it home from Terrifying Demon Castle without tearing each other to itty bitty pieces.”

Herah shot her a sideways look that indicated she wasn’t helping. “I think Sera is  trying to say that they could use some help. Alone, they might not be able to deal with this, but if we could find a way to help them talk to each other...”

“Even for you, that’s unusually optimistic,” Varric said. He turned to look at her, and Sera cocked her head, smushing her cheek further into her fist. “But, just for the sake of curiosity, what did you have in mind, Buttercup?”

“Hey,” Herah said, sounding slightly put out. “Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No, because it’s not going to work. No offense, Inquisitor, but you’re way too earnest for this kind of work. Getting the Witch and the Seeker together is going to require a lot more guile than you’ve got in you.”

Sera grinned. “He’s got a point, Inky. You’re dead easy to read. I think this is more my type of deal.”

“Fair enough,” Herah admitted with a sigh. “Go ahead then. What’s your brilliant plan?”

Sera scrunched up her face. She had been so eager to be put in charge that she hadn’t worked out the details of what she’d do if she actually was.  Still, she’d been asked for an idea, and after a brief scratch of her head, she had one. “Okay, so talking doesn’t work, ‘cause they’re too angry to have a right conversation. So what we do is, we find out when Morrigan’s taking a bath, and I sneak in and swipe her clothes. Meanwhile, Inky, you tell Cassandra that there’s, like, there’s a new sword in there or some shite and then duck on in. After that, it’s just them, and no clothes, and bam. Spark fly.”

Herah sighed. “I’m not sure that’s entirely ethical, but regardless, all it might do is lead to the two of them having sex. They’ve already done that and it didn’t solve anything. The problem isn’t that they won’t sleep together, it’s that they feel guilty about it afterwards.”

Sera frowned. She didn’t generally have much guilt about shagging, which left her unsure how to get rid of it. “Hm, yeah. Might be right, Inky. What about you?” she asked Varric. “You gotta have a good caper in you, what with all those tales you like writing.”

“Oh, no.” The dwarf shook his head. “I let other people plan this sort of thing. I just go along for the ride. Cuts down on the blame afterwards.” He paused for dramatic effect before adding, “Of course, that doesn’t mean I can’t think of somebody else who specializes in devious schemes.”

***

“What we are really dealing with here are two distinct problems,” Leliana began. Unlike Varric, their spymaster had been positively enthused about helping Morrigan and Cassandra get together. The idea had even brought a rare smile to her lips, though Herah wasn’t sure if that was more due to the prospect of her friends’ future happiness or their discomfort. 

“The first is that Cassandra feels guilt over being attracted to someone she finds both irritating and reprehensible. Morrigan, on the other hand, isn’t bothered by her physical responses, but doesn’t want admit she’s having an emotional one. We will have to overcome both of these obstacles in order to make our mission a success.”

“Oh, is that all?” Herah laughed, but Varric seemed to be undaunted.

“Well, irritating isn’t necessarily a problem. Hawke and the Rivani used to bicker all the time, but they still managed to make it work, at least after Isabela…” He paused, turning to Leliana. “So, just how evil is Morrigan?”

Leliana laughed before answering. Herah was glad to hear the sound; the spymaster was far too grim most of the time. “Oh, she can be cold at times, but she is not truly as bad as all that. I recall one time on the road to Denerim when she took a serious wound saving Wynne from a pack of Darkspawn. Afterwards, of course, she denied that she’d done it on purpose, but we all knew better.”

“So, she might be up for a heroic gesture,” Varric offered. “In my experience, one big, selfless moment can win a lot of good will. Of course, finding a chance for Morrigan to save Cassandra’s life might be easier said than done. The Seeker isn’t exactly a distressed damsel.”

“Right enough.” Sera rolled up off of the bed, where she’d been fiddling with a carved trinket brought back from one of their expeditions to Orlais. “But lots of people need saving. Maybe we get Miss Spooky to save one of them and make her look better to Cassandra, yeah?”

Herah put her arm around Sera’s shoulder, giving it a pat. “Could be. I guess we can keep an eye out for an opportunity. But what about Morrigan? How are we going to get her to admit she’s a person with, you know, actual feelings?”

“It is my experience,” Leliana offered, “that people only change when they feel they have no choice. Morrigan has been this way for a very long time.” She laughed softly. “If you met her mother, I think you would understand why.”

“So, how do we get past that?” Herah asked her co-conspirators. This operation was proving to be much trickier than she’d hoped. “Getting Morrigan to open up emotionally doesn’t seem like the kind of thing we can just prank our way into.” Her question earned her a collective shrug, and she sighed. “Well, we’ve got some time to think about it at least. I just got word from Cullen that we’re ready to move out to the Arbor Wilds. We’ll be leaving tonight, and for this battle, we’re going to need everyone on board, including Morrigan. With any luck, we get a little heroism along the way and at least some of our problems will be solved.”

* * *

Morrigan glowered as she leaned against the twisted trunk of a tree, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. While she would admit that Cassandra's bulky armor had proven itself useful on a few rare occasions, it was not built for traveling through the forest. The Seeker's lumbering and creaking could probably be heard for miles, and it had silenced all the birdsong from the canopy above. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the grip of her staff, brow furrowing deeper with each wasted moment.

After another painful minute, Cassandra, the Inquisitor, Sera, and Varric finally caught up with her. The Seeker brought up the rear, and Morrigan couldn't help but notice a trickle of sweat running along her hairline. "Wouldn't it have been wiser to wear something lighter and easier to remove, Seeker?" she asked, gliding away from her perch. Somewhat reluctantly, she re-joined the rest of the group, ignoring Cassandra's frown of annoyance. "The giant sword is bad enough, but your breastplate..."

"I'd like to see you stand in front of a bear in nothing but what you're wearing, witch," Cassandra grumbled. "I'm sure you would appreciate my breastplate then."

Nearby, Sera began to snigger while Varric and the Inquisitor averted their eyes. Morrigan saw the exact moment Cassandra realized how her comment had sounded. She choked, then tried to cover it with an all too obvious cough. A crimson flush spread across her face, and her nose wrinkled in embarrassment - or perhaps even disgust. "Let's keep moving," she grunted, waving everyone else on and stomping down the forest path. "I think the templar camp Scout Harding mentioned is only a little further ahead."

"At least try and walk more quietly," Morrigan said in a dry whisper. "Unless it is your wish that the every Red Templar in this forest hear you and converge on us at once."

Cassandra gave her a sour look. "And when they do, I'll be thankful for my armor."

"If they don't dent it, I surely will," she muttered. Without waiting for Cassandra to reply, she padded off down the forest path, refusing to wait for the others.

To her surprise, one other figure did keep pace. Sera, seemingly almost as intent on annoying her as Cassandra, skipped along beside her.  "Breastplates,  yeah?" she cackled, grinning ear to pointed ear. "Good one. Old grumpy tits over there looks like you tried to shove a whacking great sword up her arse."

"I take it you are still upset with the Seeker for her treatment of you a few days ago," Morrigan said. She did not particularly want to converse with Sera, but the glare burning into the back of her head convinced her to continue for a short while, at least. Cassandra obviously wasn't happy to see them talking even though Sera had not been the one to disclose her secret. And for reasons she couldn't understand, Morrigan was fond of making Cassandra's face twitch in annoyance. It brought her more pleasure than she was willing to admit.

"Wouldn't you be if she slammed you against the wall and... Oh, wait. She did. And  you liked it."

Morrigan pressed her lips into a thin line. "Just because the Fade's magic tempted me to indulge in my baser instincts does not mean I have any fondness for the partner I chose. Although I suppose it could have been worse. The magic might have hit the two of us instead. That would have been truly horrible."

Sera gaped at her, looking torn between laughter and horror, and Morrigan decided to count it a victory. It wasn't often that anyone was able to shut the annoying elf's mouth for more than a few seconds. Only the Inquisitor seemed to manage it, and that was just because she had the advantage of kissing. The sappy looks the two had been exchanging on the journey left Morrigan on edge, reminding her uncomfortably of the time she had spent in Leliana and the Warden's company many years ago.

The two of them had been nauseatingly sweet together, and the only thing more tiresome than watching the pair moon over each other was the perennially grim mood that her lover’s absence had evidently produced in Leliana. Morrigan could only hope that if anything happened to Sera, the Inquisitor wouldn’t become so insufferable. For the elf, of course, it was already far too late; her company was already unbearable.

And what if it was Cassandra who died instead? Morrigan had japed about her breastplate being dented, but how would she feel if the Red Templars who awaited them were really to harm the Seeker? The idea produced an uncomfortable churn in her gut, one far less enjoyable than the pleasure she got from needling the other woman.  ‘Tis just friendly concern. We do fight together, after all. It is no different from what I would feel if Leliana or Wynne had been killed. Truly, that is all it is.


	13. Chapter 13

“Andraste’s tits! More of them?! Don’t they have some armor to polish or something?”

While she might not have expressed it with Sera’s colorful vocabulary, Morrigan appreciated the sentiment. They had already fought through a legion of Red Templars during their approach to the Temple of Mythal, and yet the enemy kept coming. Still, there was nothing to do but press onwards. As the next wave of the Templars approached, she and Herah threw up fresh barriers, hers around Cassandra and the Iron Bull, whom they had added to their party at the barricade, and Herah’s covering themselves and Sera.

Not a moment too soon, either. The Templar archers loosed a wave of arrows while their corrupted brethren launched themselves at the Inquisition’s front-line warriors. Their reckless zeal that reminded Morrigan of the Darkspawn she had once fought, primitive and incapable of fear thanks to the red lyrium. Iron Bull lopped off the head of the first man to come at him, and Cassandra engaged the next pair, deftly parrying their attacks with her shield.

Even as Morrigan launched a lightning strike at the archers, she found her gaze drawn back to Cassandra's duel. The Seeker had slid a counterstrike past one of the two Templar’s shields and under his armor, and was now driving the other one back across the river they were fighting to cross. It was an impressive display of skill, all the more so given the many battles they’d already waged that day.

Of course, your eye never lingered so on Zevran or the Warden, and they were quite the experts with their blades as well.

Shaking off such thoughts, she returned her attention to the battle. A few of the Templars had made it past the warriors and were headed toward the Inquisition’s back line. Sera leapt away from their charge, firing a volley of arrows as she retreated, while Herah conjured a ball of flame to fling into the Templar’s midst. That scattered them well enough, but while several went down, one largely unburned warrior leapt in Morrigan’s direction.

His sword collided with the barrier surrounding her before she could ready an effective response.  Fortunately, Herah’s conjuring was strong. The energy field took the brunt of the attack before collapsing, leaving her unharmed. That bought her enough time to re-focus and defend herself. She sent an icy burst flying from her staff, freezing the unfortunate Templar in place. Morrigan shifted backwards, positioning herself safely out of reach of his longsword before she followed up with a series of electrical strikes that cooked the trapped warrior inside his armor.

On the front line, however, things were not going quite so well. One of the enormous, lyrium-fed behemoths had joined the assault, and its charge had left Iron Bull sprawled on his ass while Cassandra was being driven backwards. Morrigan saw her stance waver, shield bucking under the powerful blows raining down on her. She hurled a lightning bolt at the creature, trying to offer Cassandra a reprieve, but it barely flinched at the impact.

Cassandra refused to go down easily. She ducked underneath the next strike and came up alongside the flank of the behemoth, slamming her sword into its armored hide. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only problem she had to contend with. Two more Red Templars were closing in on her exposed rear. As they raised their swords, Morrigan reacted on instinct. She took two swift steps down the river bank, and as her feet touched the water, she shifted. Her frame rippled and expanded, hands and feet giving way to fur and claws as she assumed her bear shape.

By the time she reached Cassandra, the Seeker had whirled to face her new attackers. The first she drove back with a series of rapid blows, but while she did, the second struck. His blade dug into her breastplate, and she fell to her knees, rolling away. Swifter than he could follow, Morrigan leapt. She hurled herself through the air, crashing on top of the surprised Templar and battering him to the ground. His sword gashed at her side as she crushed him, but she ignored the pain, slamming her paw into his head. His helmet fell off and her second blow mashed his face to a bloody pulp.

Morrigan tilted her head at the sound of the behemoth moving toward her, but before it got far, it stopped in its tracks. Iron Bull was back on his feet and in the full fury of his blood rage, his greatsword hacking massive chunks out of its side. That only left the other Templar. He had recovered from Cassandra’s earlier attack, and he pressed forward, but the Seeker had regained her bearings too. While Morrigan's bear form held the Templar's attention, Cassandra swung at his ankles, the blow throwing him to the ground where Morrigan was easily able to finish him off.

Soon, the last of the enemy had been dealt with. The ground was littered with corpses, and Morrigan surveyed the carnage with a sense of satisfaction. She didn't shift often, but something about the way she had leapt to Cassandra's rescue felt good...  Blast and damnation, what in Thedas and beyond am I thinking? I was not rescuing anybody. T'was simply instinct to protect my allies, distasteful as they may be. But some part of her knew she wouldn't have taken quite as much pride in defending Sera or Bull from such an attack.

Unsettled by her feelings as much as her actions, she reverted back into her human form, adjusting her top to make sure it covered her properly. The enchanted garment usually returned to its previous place when she shifted, but in her current state of distraction, she couldn't take that for granted. She managed to strike a casual pose as Cassandra approached her, avoiding the Seeker's eyes until the last possible moment. When she finally did look though, she was surprised to see gratitude on Cassandra's face.

"Thank you, Morrigan," she said, smiling and a little breathless. "I wasn't prepared for that last one."

Seeing Cassandra smile and use her name without sounding like she had swallowed a mouthful of curdled milk was so strange that Morrigan couldn't form an answer for several moments. She was used to biting insults, not honest gratitude. "Well," she said at last, blinking to try and clear her head, "I must admit that you were right to don that bulky breastplate of yours. That Templar's sword would surely have skewered you had you not been wearing it."

"I would have been skewered anyway if he had made it to me. I've never seen you transform like that. Why haven't you made use of that form in combat before?"

Morrigan shrugged. She wasn't entirely sure why she had donned the bear’s shape this time, and the answers that came to mind first were not ones she was comfortable disclosing. The thought that she might have some lingering care inside of her for Cassandra simply because they had been sexual with each other was terrifying.  'Tis an infection of the heart, she thought, frowning with annoyance.  I will become soft again like the Warden’s friendship made me if I do not take care.

But despite her inner conflict, she couldn't find it in herself to be rude. She had saved Cassandra's life, and Cassandra had thanked her most politely. Even she recognized that it would be crossing a line to be dismissive in such circumstances. After what the two of them had been through, she supposed professional respect was the most she could hope for. "'Tis perilous to expose myself in combat in that manner. I only take on that form in dire circumstances."

Unfortunately, Cassandra did not let the subject drop. "And you consider saving my life a dire circumstance?" she asked, testing the words out as if she was uncertain of them.

Had she not spent her entire life controlling such reactions, Morrigan would have blushed. Instead, she cleared her throat and averted her eyes again. "I've no wish to see you harmed, Cassandra," she said, using the Seeker's name instead of her title for a change. When she realized how that had sounded, she tried again. "We need our party at full strength to make our way into the temple..."

Thankfully, an interruption saved her before she could flounder any further. For once, Sera's timing was perfect. The elf bounded up beside her, grinning from ear to ear. "You showed those tin hats, yeah?" she said, nudging an elbow into her side. "Don't normally like that wiggly-fingered magic stuff, but that was right fun to watch! You smashed him in good with those huge paws, didn'tcha Spooky?"

“And you looked damn sweet doing it, too.” Iron Bull swaggered over to their side, hefting his massive sword up onto his shoulder. After her time with Sten, she would have expected the Inquisition’s qunari swordsman to be dour and stoic, but the Bull seemed to revel in his work. “Turning into a bear’s pretty bad-ass. Can you do a dragon, too?”

“No,” she admitted, “A bear is the largest shape I can take on.” Her mother could manage a good deal more, but though she had Flemmeth’s grimoire, she was still far from having mastered all of her secrets.  If I did, would I become more like her?  Now that is a truly frightening thought.

“Well, bear’s still pretty good. What about you, boss? Have you been holding out on us? Got any forms of your own up your sleeve?”

Herah laughed, the broad grin on her face suggesting that she was particularly pleased with the entire situation. “No, I prefer to leave the shapeshifting heroics to Morrigan.”  She patted the Seeker on the shoulder. “I hope you appreciated it, Cassandra.”

Cassandra wasn’t as good at hiding a blush as Morrigan, and her her whole face turned a brilliant shade of red.  At least she finds this situation as mortifying as I do. One of the few things we have in common, I suppose.  “I have already thanked her, Inquisitor. Now, I believe that we should resume moving. The temple is not far, and we should try and reach it before Corypheus does.”

“Oh, no doubt,” Herah agreed, her smugness not wavering as she began to trudge towards the far bank of the river. “I’m sure that’s why we should get going.”

***

“‘Tis not what I expected. What was this chamber used for?”

Herah had no idea of the answer to Morrigan’s question, which only made her more cautious as their party moved across the vast room decorated in ornate elven tilework. Thus far, they had successfully passed through the various trials they’d encountered, and she hoped there would be no more. At this point, another encounter with the Red Templars might come as a welcome change from hopping around stonework puzzles.

They’d made it about halfway across the room when a disturbance in the air caught her attention. From out of a strange mist, a half-dozen of the ancient elves they’d encountered earlier appeared, bows in hand, while another stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the chamber. He was tall, clad in armor and a hooded brown cloak, and carried himself with a clear aura of authority.

“Venavis,” he began, cold arrogance marking his tone. “You are unlike the other invaders. You bear the mark of magic which is… familiar. How has this come to pass? What is your connection to the others who disturbed our slumber?”

Herah looked down at her hand, the magic of the anchor tracing a pattern of light across it.  Do they know what this is? Maybe they can help me figure out more of what I need to do with it. “They are my enemies as well as yours,” she replied, her voice ringing out in the huge space of the chamber.

The elf’s hand rested on his chin as he weighed her words, and then he spoke once more. “I am called Abelas. We are sentinels, tasked with standing against those who trespass on sacred ground. We wake only to fight, to preserve this place. Our numbers diminish with each invasion. I know what you seek. Like all who come before you, you wish to drink from the Vir’abelasan.”

Morrigan leaned close to her. “The place of the way of sorrows,” she whispered with undisguised eagerness. “He speaks of the Well.” 

Actually, Herah wasn’t all that eager to drink from the blasted thing herself, especially since she had not idea of what that would entail.

Abelas’ expression hardened as he continued, and his voice was filled with a certainty she’d become far too accustomed to. “It is not for you. It is not for any of you.”  Great. Another religious fanatic.  She really hoped this elf’s devotion to his faith didn’t force them to kill him.

“We did not come here to fight you, nor to steal from your temple,” she insisted.

Thankfully, Abelas’ next words were, “I believe you. Trespassers you are, but you have followed the Rites of Petition. You have showed respect to Mythal. If these others are enemies of yours, we shall aid you in destroying them. When this is done, you shall be permitted to depart… and never return.”

Cassandra didn’t seem satisfied with that answer. “I do not trust him. We know not what they will do once the battle is over.”

For once, Morrigan agreed with the Seeker, but for very different reasons, voiced in much more hushed tones. “Consider carefully. You must stop Corypheus, yes, but you may also need the Well for your own purposes.”

Herah sighed. Both of her allies had valid points, but there had been enough death already that day. She wasn’t going to kill people who were prepared to fight alongside her over what might be, and she definitely didn’t want to get involved in another disagreement between Morrigan and Cassandra. “I accept your offer,” she said to Abelas, ignoring both of them.

Abelas nodded, showing as little emotion as ever. “Very well. You shall be guided. As for the Vir’abelasan… It shall not be despoiled, even if I must destroy it myself.”

The elf turned to leave, but before he had gone more than a few paces, a distraught, “No,” flew from Morrigan’s lips. A puff of purple smoke enveloped her and for the second time that day, she shifted. This time though, it was not a bear’s shape that she took on. Instead, where a dark-haired woman had once stood there was only a raven, which darted off in pursuit of Abelas.

Herah opened her mouth to implore her not to leave, but before she could say anything, a cry of “Morrigan,” cut her off. She may have been upset to see the witch depart, but whatever she was feeling couldn’t match the anguished look that now covered Cassandra’s face.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revan's Mask here. Sorry for the relatively long hiatus, but both of us got distracted by things like other stories, work, and Dragon Age DLC. (Seriously. Trespasser. Damn) We're back now though, with a nice update for you. Also, I've started a Legend of Korra story called Closing the Distance. Check it out if you're so inclined.

Cassandra fumed as they raced down the stairs, knuckles bulging around the grip of her sword. After all that fighting, after everything they had been through, after Morrigan had saved her life, the witch was gone again. Cassandra should have known it was coming. Her surprise and hurt only proved that she was a fool. She never should have been so trusting in the first place, but some stupid part of her had actually believed Morrigan was... well, not her lover or even her friend, but at least a decent ally. Someone who cared about her safety and the safety of their party, if not anyone else's feelings.

But no. All she cared about was that cursed well. Despite her better judgment, Cassandra was starting to believe that Abelas had been right. The promise of the well's power had certainly convinced Morrigan to turn back into her greedy, arrogant self. _No, 'turn back' is wrong. I was wrong. She was always this way, and I've been too addle-brained to remember._

But there was nothing to be done about it now. Morrigan was gone, and there were plenty of Red Templars to kill. Cassandra threw herself into her task with everything she had. Normally, she prided herself on control above all else, but this time, she had fire in her eyes, and she let her anger feed her strength. She smashed in the head of the nearest enemy with her shield, not even bothering to follow up with a sword-swing when he collapsed onto the hard stone floor. The next templar ended up skewered on her sword. Even in her fury, Cassandra’s strokes were precise. She knew just how to work her blade into the grooves of their armor.

She hacked and slashed her way down the steps and deeper into the temple, careless of the numbers they faced. Morrigan was somewhere up ahead, and although Cassandra had no idea what she would do when she found the witch again, she knew that finding her was necessary. Someone with motives like Morrigan’s could not be trusted around the power of the Well of Sorrows.

But it was not Morrigan they found at the end of the next overgrown path. Instead, it was Samson, accompanied by even more Red Templars. He turned at their approach, and a sadistic smile curved above his blocky chin. _He almost seems pleased to see us_ , Cassandra thought in disgust.

"Inquisitor? You've got a damned long reach," Samson said. He raised his arms, gesturing at the wide open space above them overlaid with dappled sunlight. "We come to the back end of nowhere, and here you are."

"Oh, you know me," Herah said, in a voice that was just a bit too jaunty. "I like to travel. Following you has taken me to some rather interesting places." Cassandra recognized that tone. It was the same forced humor the Inquisitor always used before she decided to put her boot to someone's backside. Even though Samson wasn't the object of her rage, Cassandra found herself looking forward to it. Morrigan had left her with a whole lot of hurt and betrayal, and smashing in Samson's head was a better outlet than most.

"You keep getting in over your head, don't you?" Samson asked. "Corypheus chose me twice. First as his General, now as the vessel for the Well of Sorrows."

Cassandra rolled her eyes, exchanging a surprising glance with Sera. She and the elf agreed on very little, but they both shared their distaste for pompous fools and their monologues.

"You know what's inside the Well? Wisdom. The kind of wisdom that can scour a world. I give it to Corypheus, and he can walk into the Fade without your precious anchor."

"What's your part in it?" Herah asked. "What's a 'vessel'?"

Samson tossed his head disdainfully. "What else empties a well? I'll carry its power to Corypheus. One more task entrusted to me. Being force-fed Chantry lyrium was good for something. This armor makes me a living fortress -mind and body."

Cassandra snorted in annoyance. _Living fortress indeed_. After everything else she had been through at the Inquisitor's side, Samson's threats were weak at best.

"I won't forget a word of the Well's knowledge. Corypheus will be unstoppable!" Red light pulsed through the grooves in his armor, swelling to surround him in slithering tendrils. "This is the strength the chantry tried to bind. But it's a new world now, with a new god. I will bring Corypheus the Well's power and your head, all at once!"

A smirk cross Herah’s dark lips. “Power’s all well and good. Until it’s taken away.” From her pocket, the Inquisitor produced the rune-covered disc that Dagna had been working on. A golden glow surrounded the object, and Samson’s massive armor exploded out from him, leaving the traitor clad in only the normal mail of a Templar.

Samson fell to his knees, crying out, “What did you do?! What did you do?!” He staggered back to his feet, but his movements were still unsteady. “My armor! It’s gone. The lyrium; I need it!” Turning back to his Red Templars, he screamed, “Kill them all!”

The corrupted warriors leapt to obey their master’s command, and Cassandra eagerly sprang forward to meet them. She might not be much of a judge of character, but at least she could hit something very hard. The first Templar had his blade raised, but before he could attack, she caught it in a bind, pushing it aside and slamming her shield into his helm. He staggered two steps backwards, and before he could recover his bearings, she whirled her blade around. The steel found a joint in his armor just below the neck, and sunk deep, a fountain of blood spilling out from the cut while he crumpled to the ground.

That earned her Samson’s attention. Clearly, whatever power Corypheus had given his “vessel” wasn’t entirely stored in the armor Herah had destroyed, because he had grown to nearly half again his original size. He wielded what had once been a great sword in one hand, and when it crashed down on Cassandra, even her perfectly timed parry almost left her own blade flying from her hand.

She wasn’t going to back down. When the next strike came, she met it with her shield instead. The greatsword slid off its surface, and when the shock ran down Cassandra’s arm, she ignored the pain and struck Samson in hard the breastplate. The fallen Templar didn’t flinch, but when he moved to press his attack, Cassandra heard a familiar cry of, “Duck, Grumpy!” coming from behind her.

Assuming that Sera meant her, Cassandra shifted to one side as a pair of arrows flew past her head, hitting Samson in the chest. One bounced off of his armor, but the other imbedded itself there, and the Seeker took advantage, renewing her attack. Now it was Samson on the defensive, trying to fend off a flurry of her blows.

“You’re a disgrace,” she snarled. “You’ve betrayed everything you swore to protect.”

Samson met her blade with his own, bracing both of his hands behind it for greater leverage. “What I swore to protect is a decaying carcass of corruption and failure. Better to break those vows than continue to bleed for them as you do.”

In light of the revelations about Lord Seeker Lucius, that cut a little close, but Cassandra wasn’t about to admit that. “Better to serve a flawed Chantry than a madman who calls himself a god.”

Growling with rage at her words, Samson surged forward, throwing Cassandra away from him. Around her, flames were everywhere. Herah was using her magic to drive back the other Templars, but Samson wasn’t so easy to deter. He pressed forward, not even fresh arrows from Sera holding him back. One of his strokes forced his way past her guard, and she grunted with pain when it struck her heavy armor.

Cassandra held her ground as best she could, but in spite of her anger, she knew she couldn’t match Samson’s brute strength. When he struck next, she let the blow knock away her shield, extending her enemy’s swing farther than he’d expected. While he was off-balance, Cassandra drove inside his guard. An armored fist struck his face while her sword pounded on on his shoulder greave. He toppled backwards, now off-balance and ripe for Iron Bull’s follow-up. The qunari had evidently finished off whatever foes he’d been facing, and he struck at the base of Samson’s spine with his greatsword.

The corrupted templar staggered and Cassandra threw her full weight against him, sending him careening over Iron Bull and onto the ground. While he struggled to rise, Cassandra gripped her sword with both hands and drove it into his back with all of her strength. Before she could even pull the blade back out, a ball of fire from Herah’s staff followed and Samson’s struggles ended, his battered body collapsing to the temple’s ornate stone floor.

Even vanquished, Samson refused to shut up. “Not the Well, you wretch,” he growled. “You can’t take it from Corypheus. You musn’t…” But he had no more strength left to make good on his demands. With a final gasp, the fallen Templar crumpled onto the ground, unconscious but incredibly still alive.

“We can take him back to Skyhold for judgement,” Herah declared, showing more mercy than Cassandra would’ve bothered with.

But that debate would have to wait. Behind them, Abelas had returned and in a flash of green light, a stairway of root and stone was forming, creating a path up towards the Well of Sorrows. Cassandra dashed off towards it with the rest of the group close behind.

Herah cried out, “Abelas,” but their erstwhile ally didn’t stop for her. He continued sprinting, green light following his feet. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, however, another player entered their drama. A large raven landed in between Abelas and the Well, and in a flash of purple, it took on a human shape once more. Morrigan had returned.

* * *

Morrigan narrowed her eyes at Abelas as he stood before her, daring him to move. She watched the elf with intense calculation, fingers clenched into fists. The Well was the key to everything, not just Corypheus's defeat, but to unlimited knowledge and the answers to thousands of questions. She could not afford to let him destroy such an ancient, beautiful thing out of fanaticism and spite.

Before she could give voice to her silent challenge, she saw Herah charging up the steps after them, Cassandra, Sera, and the Iron Bull hot on her heels. The sight of Cassandra's blood-spattered armor made her falter just a little, but she didn't let it show. She had more important priorities than dealing with... whatever the awkwardness between the two of them was. She could tell from the pain in Cassandra's dark eyes that the Seeker was furious with her for fleeing, and it took more effort than she expected to break the intense gaze they had formed over Abelas and Herah's shoulders.

At last though, she managed to avert her eyes and bury her guilt. What she had done didn't matter. Cassandra's feelings didn't matter. All that mattered was the goal: preserving the Well. "You heard his parting words, Inquisitor," Morrigan said, forcing herself to focus on Herah. "The elf seeks to destroy the Well of Sorrows. We cannot afford to let him."

Abelas gave her a hateful look and backed away, bitter in his defeat. "So, the sanctum is despoiled at last," he hissed, his tattooed face sneering beneath his hood.

Morrigan returned his glare. "You would have destroyed the Well yourself, given the chance."

"To keep it from your grasping fingers. Better it be lost than bestowed upon the undeserving."

"Fool," she spat, unable to contain her anger. The thought of such a gift being squandered enraged her like little else could. "You'd let your people's legacy rot in the shadows."

"Enough!"

Morrigan was both surprised and disappointed to see Herah glaring at her. She felt a stab of betrayal, and it doubled when she noticed Cassandra give a jerking nod of approval. Somehow, the thought that Herah, a respected ally, and Cassandra, someone she had begrudgingly grown to admire, both disapproved of her decision hurt. It reminded her uncomfortably of the creeping softness she had felt in the Warden's presence.

She did her best to brush it aside and rolled her eyes. "Inquisitor, you cannot honestly-"

"I said enough," Herah repeated. Although normally soft-spoken for a leader, her tone now allowed no room for argument.

_Still_ , Morrigan thought, _I must persuade her. At all costs, the Well must be preserved_. "Please, think this through. The Well clearly offers power. If that power can be turned against Corypheus, the one who destroyed your Haven and created an unthinkable future, can you afford not to use it? Would you be able to live with the consequences?"

She was gratified to see a flicker of doubt in Herah's eyes. Apparently, she had hit her mark. Even Cassandra's look of betrayal faltered as she considered the argument. _I do not need her approval_ , Morrigan reminded herself. _I need only convince Herah to side with me and allow me to drink_. But for some reason, she couldn't keep from stealing glances at the Seeker anyway.

"Do you even know what you ask?" Abelas interrupted. "As each servant of Mythal reached the end of their years, they passed their knowledge on through this." He gestured at the Well's smooth, undisturbed waters. "All that we were, all that we knew, it would be lost forever."

“It’s better that knowledge remain in the Well, never passed on?” Herah asked. “You’d rather destroy it?”

Abelas paused, giving the Well a long look, as if he was preparing to leave a lover.  “You have shown respect to Mythal,” he conceded. “And there is a righteousness in you I cannot deny. Is that your desire? To partake of the Vir’abelasan as best you can, to fight your enemy?”

Instead of being happy that this badly needed power was being offered to her, though, Herah turned suddenly cautious. “Gifts like this don’t come freely.”

Abelas nodded in agreement. “No boon of Mythal was ever granted without cost. The Vir’abelasan may be too much for a mortal to comprehend. Brave it if you must, but know this: you shall be bound forever to the will of Mythal.”

Morrigan would not be so easily intimidated. Not now. Not when she was so close to what she sought. “Bound?” she asked, contempt threading through her voice. “Bound to the will of a Goddess who no longer exists, if she ever did?”

The sentinel’s eyes hardened. It was clear he liked Herah far better than her. _And what of it? I do not require his approval either. I do not require anyone’s approval_. “Bound as we are bound,” he insisted. “The choice is yours.”

“Is it possible this Mythal might still exist?” Herah asked.

“Anything is possible,” Abelas replied, and when Morrigan saw the flickers of doubt in Herah’s dark eyes, she knew she had to stop her from turning away at the precipice of what they needed.

“Elven legend states that Mythal was tricked by Fen’Harel and banished to the Beyond,” she reminded the Inquisitor.

“‘Elven’ legend is wrong,” Abelas disagreed, his disdain for what currently passed for his race’s lore evident. “Fen’Harel had nothing to do with her murder.”

For once, Morrigan was surprised. “Murder?” she asked. “I said nothing of…”

“She was slain,” Abelas continued. “If a god truly can be. Betrayed by those who destroyed this temple. Yet the Vir’abelasan remains. As do we. That is something.”

“You could come with us,” Herah offered as the sentinel turned to leave, “And fight Corypheus. He killed your people.”

Abelas shook his head. “We killed ourselves long ago.”  The sheer weight of grief and regret he bore was palpable, and in spite of how distasteful she found his fanaticism, Morrigan was able to manage a twinge of pity for him. But it didn’t last long. She had a far more important problem to see to than the sorrow of an old elf. Now that the Well had been offered to them, she had to make sure she was the one to drink from it.

She turned back to the pool and the strange mirror that stood behind it. “You’ll note the in-tact Eluvian,” she told Herah. “I was correct on that count, at least.”

“Is it still a threat? Can Corypheus use it to travel the Fade?” the Inquisitor asked.

Herah was a skilled mage, but her expertise lay more in combat magic than arcane secrets, and Morrigan explained, “You’ll recall when I took you through my Eluvian, I said each required a key? The Well is that key. Take its power, and Mythal’s last Eluvian will be no more use to Corypheus than glass.”

She stared out into the shimmering waters, and as she did, a strange feeling came over her. As much as she wanted to drink from it, it seemed as if it wanted her to drink from it, to touch her as she would touch it.  “I did not expect the Well to feel so hungry,” she admitted.

Herah raised an eyebrow.  Perhaps she sensed the same thing, or perhaps she was just reacting to Morrigan’s statement. “It seems like that should be a concern.”

Morrigan took a deep breath, forcing down her worries. She had come too far to turn back now, and she had to make the Inquisitor see that before she made a dreadful mistake. “Knowledge begets a hunger for more,” she replied. “I am willing to pay the price the Well demands. I am also the best suited to use its knowledge in your service. Of those present, I alone have the training to make use of this. I have studied the oldest lore. I have delved into mysteries of which you can only dream. Let me drink, Inquisitor.”

Herah must have known that she was right, but even still, she hesitated, turning back to their companions for advice. “Thoughts?”

It was Cassandra who answered. Her erstwhile lover had been silent for some time, and when she finally spoke, Morrigan was unsure what to make of her words. “If it is truly between you and her…” she paused before finishing her sentence, “Then let her take the risk. Maker help us all.”

Morrigan knew she should be grateful that Cassandra was supporting her cause, but she couldn’t help being irritated that the Seeker was so willing to risk her instead of Herah. _Enough_! she snapped at her own thoughts, _Cease this foolish caring! It is the Well that matters, not that woman’s opinion of you_.

While she tried to shut down her inner voice, Sera spoke. “It’s called the Well of Sorrows,” she protested. “No one should go into the Well of _Sorrows_.”  But Morrigan knew what she really meant. The elf feared magic, and while she might have preferred that the Well remain untouched, what she really didn’t want was for Herah to take it into herself.

Perhaps the Inquisitor knew that too, because she turned to Morrigan and sighed before saying, “All right. It’s yours.”

Morrigan did not bother with a reply. Instead, she turned back to the Well and waded in without hesitation. As soon as her first foot touched the water, green light swirled up from its depths, wrapping around her body even while mists enveloped her. She spun around in the warm liquid, trying to take in all that it had to offer, but as the power began to seep into her skin, it was more than she had expected. A tidal wave of thoughts, memories, and emotions crashed into her head, a blur of images and sounds that she couldn’t process all at once. Without even a chance to cry out, she collapsed, falling into the water. The last thing she saw before she passed beneath its surface was Cassandra rushing toward her.


	15. Chapter 15

As Morrigan slumped over, Cassandra reacted on instinct. She rushed forward, barely raising a hand to shield her face from the energies swirling around the well. Despite everything that had happened, the thought of seeing Morrigan fall cut the bottom out of her stomach and left behind a sucking, empty pit. She hesitated at the Well's edge, but swiftly realized that there was no more water to avoid. It had vanished, leaving only Morrigan's limp form lying across the tiled stones.

She sensed Herah beside her, but didn't bother waiting for the Inquisitor to join her. She took the steps two at a time, crouching down by Morrigan's side. Breath filled her lungs again when she saw Morrigan's eyes twitch beneath their lids. "Thank the Maker, she isn't dead," she whispered as Herah knelt beside her.

"Aw, Shiny, I didn't know you cared." Sera's shadow hovered over them, but she didn't bend down.

Normally, Cassandra would have objected to the comment, but she was far too distracted. Morrigan began to stir, and the Seeker slid an arm behind her back without thinking, helping her to sit up. The witch's yellow eyes snapped open, wild and confused. They were frightening to look at, but Cassandra didn't draw back. She kept a tight hold on Morrigan's arm, trying to prevent her from staggering to her feet, then helping her when she insisted. Strange words spilled from Morrigan's lips, a string of elvish Cassandra couldn't understand, and the sickening fear returned.  She's alive, but what has happened to her?

"Morrigan?" Cassandra asked, not bothering to hide the urgency in her voice. "Morrigan, are you all right?"

Morrigan's eyes finally seemed to recognize her. They softened ever so slightly, and the lines of panic faded from her face. "I..." She breathed in, seeming to take stock of herself. "I am in-tact... Cassandra"

Cassandra felt another burst of relief. At least Morrigan recognized her and was speaking the right language again. "Careful," she said, steadying Morrigan's elbow as she continued to sway. "You were unconscious moments ago."

"Was I?" Morrigan's eyes grew blurry again, as though she was lost somewhere far away. "There were whispers, but your voice didn't come until..." She shook herself, blinking several times. "There is much to sift through."

"Wait, you're telling me the Well put voices in your head?" Iron Bull asked. He had lumbered down the steps to join them, but was keeping a fair distance. Cassandra could read the mistrust on his face. Obviously, he wasn't happy that Herah had allowed Morrigan to drink. Neither was Sera, but that wasn't a surprise. She hadn't wanted anything to do with elvish magic in the first place.  Perhaps Sera was right, Cassandra thought as she watched Morrigan try to make sense of her surroundings.  I know I said Morrigan should take the risk, but this was not what I expected to happen. She felt a stab of guilt for her earlier words, and she wished she could take them back. If things had gone differently, if Morrigan hadn't woken up...

Black fog slithered along the ground, swirling around their feet and filling the empty basin of the well, making Cassandra finally tear her gaze away from Morrigan and look up. At first, she only noticed Herah's frightened expression, but when she followed it back to its source, she saw something far worse. They were no longer alone. A tall, cloaked figure was standing on a far balcony, looking down at them with fury on his deformed face.

"Shite," Sera spat, speaking for them all. "Coryphy-tits found us. Let's run, yeah?"

"The eluvian," Herah said, gesturing toward the mirror. "Hurry!"

Cassandra didn't need to be told twice. She helped Morrigan toward the mirror, refusing to look back. The witch stumbled along beside her, struggling to keep pace, but she had enough coherence to lift her hand. The glowing glass flashed an even brighter blue, vibrating audibly as they drew near. Cassandra hesitated for a split second. She had never gone through one of the eluvian before, and she had no idea where it would lead. But to her surprise, Morrigan squeezed her arm. She didn't speak, but Cassandra understood the gesture of reassurance and if it came down to trusting Morrigan or battling the seemingly unkillable Corypheus, she was going to trust Morrigan.

Without further pause, she leapt through the mirror, followed closely by Morrigan and then the rest of the Inquisition’s expedition. What Cassandra saw on other side was enough to make her temporarily forget everything else. The temple had vanished, and instead they stood on a misty plane, a strange wasteland with no vegetation and little light, covered only by dozens of eluvians and a series of bizare statues that reminded her of trees without really resembling them. It was unsettlingly alien, and she was not the only one who thought so. Sera had huddled close to Herah, and even the normally imperturbable Bull looked decidedly uneasy. Only the two mages seemed unmoved by the sight in front of them, perhaps because they had been here before.

Morrigan’s voice snapped them out of their reverie.  “Step away from the eluvian,” she ordered, and seconds after everyone rushed to comply, the glass exploded inwards, spraying back through the portal they had just emerged from. Its glow vanished entirely, and Morrigan told them, “There. Now Corypheus will not be able to follow us.”

Sera bit her lip nervously. “That’s grand and all, Spooky, but we’re not, uh, stuck here, are we?”

Herah squeezed her shoulder. “Nah, we’re fine. Morrigan has another one of these things around somewhere. It will take us right back to Skyhold.” She turned to the witch. “You do know how to find it from here, right?”

“Of course,” Morrigan replied. “That way. ‘Tis not far at all.”

Indeed it wasn’t, and only a few minutes later, they stood in front of another mirror, the only other one Cassandra had seen that glowed. Morrigan waved her hand and its light grew brighter.  “Simple enough.”

As Morrigan moved towards the portal, though, she abruptly stumbled. Her legs seemed to turn to jelly, but before she could hit the ground, Cassandra was there, catching the witch in her arms.

“I… I am all right,” Morrigan protested, but her voice trembled when she spoke and Cassandra could see sweat coating her skin.

“No, you are not.” She braced Morrigan against her torso, letting her body take most of their combined weight. Together, they walked through the portal, and an instant later, they were back in Skyhold as if they had just been taking a stroll in the courtyard rather than many leagues away.

Morrigan gestured back at the mirror. Its glow stilled, but that seemed to take whatever energy she had left. Cassandra eased her down to her knees, and the witch drew out a long breath. “It is done. And I really will be all right,” she insisted. “I am still processing what I absorbed from the Well, nothing more.”

“Bloody weird,” Sera said, shaking her head. “All of it is too bloody strange. Places should be next to where they’re next to and water should just be water.”

“I can agree with that.” Iron Bull hoisted his sword onto his back. “And you know what else? Ale should be ale, and after that weirdness, I think it’s time for a drink. Or a whole round of them.”

“Now that’s a sodding good idea,” Sera agreed. “How ‘bout you, Inky? Drinks?”

“In a little bit. I better make sure everyone’s okay and the castle hasn’t fallen down with all of us out in the Wilds.”

“Go do that then.” 

Sera sounded a little annoyed, but that was Herah’s problem. Cassandra was more concerned about Morrigan. The witch remained slumped against a wall. Strands of her dark hair were plastered across her face, and her eyes were half-closed.

“Are you sure you will be all right, Morrigan?” Cassandra asked. 

“I will be. I simply… I will need some time to absorb all of this and recover my strength.”

Cassandra nodded. “As you say. Let me help you to your chambers at least.”

Morrigan didn’t say anything, but leaned forward into her arms, allowing herself to be helped back to her feet. As they made their way through the castle, Cassandra’s thoughts were troubled. Others might have seen her as stubborn, and perhaps she was, but she was also a realist and reality was not pleasant. After everything they had been through that day, there was no denying that things between them were even worse than she had realized. Attraction was bad enough, but actually caring was a disaster and there was no way to get around the fact that she did care about Morrigan.

* * *

Sera slammed her mug of ale back down onto the table, ignoring the wave of foam that sloshed over its lip. She had only been drinking for a little while, but she was already past tipsy and well on her way to drunk. This time, however, it wasn't the cheerful, forgetful sort of drunk. The more ale she drank, the gloomier she got.

She wished she and Herah had never gone to the Arbor Wilds. She wished they hadn't stumbled upon an ancient race of creepy, snooty elves and gotten mixed up with a long dead- No,  nonexistent -elven "Goddess". And most of all, she wished she could forget the image of Corypheus hurting toward them on the smoke-filled wings of his black cloak.

He had scared her before, although she didn't like to admit it. That was the reason she had filled Herah's hat with apples, drawn his face on it, and gathered Skyhold's residents to beat it with sticks. In her experience, seemingly unstoppable boogeymen could always be taken down a peg. But then the Fade had happened, and the creepy spells in the Western Approach, and all the hocus-pocus nonsense in the Arbor Wilds was the last straw. Things she didn't want to understand, things she  couldn't  understand, were trying to kill the woman she loved, and she couldn’t bear it.

"Titfucking arsebugger," she slurred, the only phrase she could think of to sum up the situation.

"Tell me about it," Bull grunted beside her. Although he had invited her to drink, they hadn't talked or interacted much aside from sitting near each other. "This whole thing is a sack of cats, isn't it?"

Sera snorted, slurping another bitter mouthful of her ale. It burned as it went down her throat, and some didn't make it past her lips, instead spilling down her chin. "I was thinking a sack of shite, but whatever."

"I'm just saying, you aren't the only one who doesn't like the way all this crap is falling apart," Bull said. Sera glanced over at him, and the uncertainty on his face wasn't reassuring. If Bull was scared too, things were just as bad as she thought.  And  that meant Herah was in as much danger as she thought, too.

"You know how these stories end, right?” she complained. “The hero always dies. Sacrifices their life for some stupid cause. And it's bloody rubbish, 'cause that's just stories, but..."

"I'm not going to die," another voice said. It took Sera a moment to confirm that she hadn't imagined it. She slid her mug aside to join the other empty ones and turned around in her chair, half-expecting to see only empty air. But Herah was standing behind her. Or, more accurately, Herah's belt buckle was standing behind her, and she wasn't sure whether to be angry or relieved.

"You can't promise that," she said flatly, still scowling. "And I thought you didn't want a drink?"

Far, far above her, Herah's head shook, although that might have been the booze again. "I said I had things to do, not that I wanted you to run away and get angry-drunk without me."

"Oh, I'm keeping out of this one," Bull said with an uncomfortable note in his voice. He left his stool and his mug of ale behind, nodding goodbye. "Good luck, boss. And that's all I'm saying."

Sera barely noticed him go. Her lower lip trembled, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to curse or cry. Seeing Herah made all the sick, scared feelings even stronger, but her presence was also reassuring. She didn't want her lover to stay, but she couldn't bear to let her go, either.

Before she could say anything, Herah made a suggestion. "Why don't we head up to your room? It's more private there."

“Fine, then.” Sera gulped down the rest of her ale before following Herah up the stairs. As she walked, everything that had happened that day kept swirling around in her head: the bad, the weird, and the kind of humorous. By the time Herah was closing the door behind them, Sera couldn’t stop a little laugh from forcing its way past her clenched lips.

“What exactly is the joke?” Herah asked, sounding somewhat confused at her sudden change of mood.

“I’m sorry. No, wait, I’m not. It’s just the funniest, isn’t it? That creaky old Abelas in Mythal saying the elves weren’t destroyed by Tevinter.”

The flat, puzzled expression didn’t leave Herah’s face. “An admission that did not come easy.”

“Course it didn’t. ‘Cause that’s elves elf-y thing. Being the sore losers of history and never hear the end of it. Like being sad makes them better than me. Turns out they’re not victims. They’re the same as everyone else: arseholes. Plus, a big old temple full of demon-worshipping lies. Grand, that.”

Herah didn’t seem to share her certainty. “So, your main take-away from everything we just went through is that elves worshipped demons?”

“Well, they never call them that, yeah?” Sera insisted. “But that’s what it had to be. I mean, it was impressive and all. Makes the Dalish look like tits for living in the woods. But so what? There can’t be a bunch of gods  and the Maker. Don’t matter how much or how little you believe, those don’t fit. So call me stupid, but I believe the stuff not made up by dead people who failed. Mythal is a  ruin full with  demons .” She dipped her head, suddenly unsure of what she was saying. As much to convince herself as Herah, she added, “I mean, it just makes sense, right?”

But her lover refused to be reassuring. “There’s so much history,” she replied. “What if some of it is true?”

“No,” Sera insisted, shaking her head while her voice became increasingly frantic. “Now you’re stupid. You can’t think that, because it’s stupid.”

“But everything we saw…”

“Why believe it?” she demanded. “Because Abelas looked weird? If that’s all it takes, Coryphy-shitheel is full of lumpy truth.” And he couldn’t be. She couldn’t accept that, and before she realized what was happening, Sera had lost her composure completely. She threw her hands in the air, and screamed, “You’re the Herald of Andraste. You keep saying this, you’ll sound like an idiot.”

Instead of yelling back at her, though, Herah’s face softened. Crossing the room, she pulled Sera into those strong arms of hers. “Hey, what’s really going on here? Something’s wrong, and it isn’t whether or not some elven legends are true.”

Ugly tears started to run down Sera’s face, and in spite of her best efforts, she wasn’t able to get them under control. “It can’t be true,” she repeated, out loud this time. “It just bloody can’t.”

“Why not? Would it really be so bad if there used to be some other gods? I mean, we already knew the world’s a pretty weird place.”

“But… but if it is. If you’re not…”

Herah tiled her head up, so that Sera was looking directly into the qunari’s big, brown eyes. “If I’m not what?”

“If there’s not a Maker, if He didn’t send you… How are you going to beat Corphey-suck? You saw it. That elven thingy killed him and he didn’t die. How’re you supposed to fight something that won’t die when you stick an arrow in its bloody gob?”

Herah’s strong hand brushed Sera’s hair out of her face and she bent down, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I know it’s frightening, and I’m scared too. I’m no cleric, or an expert on ancient magic like Morrigan, but I can tell that this is big, and it’s weird, and we don’t know everything that’s going on. But pretending we do isn’t going to make this stuff go away. We’ve got to face it head-on so we can figure it out, and I need to know if you can do that with me.”

Sera sniffled back her tears as best she could, wiping away the rest with her hand. She felt like a blithering idiot, carrying on like this. “I’m sorry, Inky. I didn’t mean to… This stuff messes me up. And thinking about losing you messes me up more. Big tits always take away the good stuff, and you’re the best stuff of all.”

Herah smiled. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Not if I can help it.”

Sera grabbed a hold of the edges of her robe, pulling her in closer. “Show me, then. Right now.”


	16. Chapter 16

Herah gasped as Sera dragged her down by the collar, bringing them face to face. Even though it wasn't a surprise, the passion and force behind the gesture took her breath away. Her lover was well over a head shorter, but that never stopped her from getting what she wanted. As soon as Sera's lips crashed against hers, Herah forgot the uncomfortable crick in her neck and the awkward angle. Indeed, Sera's kisses usually made her forget everything else in the world.

She didn't protest when Sera walked her back into the small, cluttered room she had claimed for her own. The messy piles lying about the floor almost sent Herah sprawling, but somehow, Sera managed to steer her through one of the only safe paths. Her calves hit the back of the window seat, and she slumped down onto it instinctively. As soon as she sat, Sera straddled her lap, cupping her cheek with one hand and gripping a horn with the other to continue the string of kisses.

So far, most of their sexual encounters had been very verbal. Sera's constant swearing extended to the bedroom, and she never hesitated to express her appreciation for a job well done. But this time, as frantic fingers fumbled with her clothes, trying to tug them over her head, Herah realized that things were unnaturally quiet. The only real sound was Sera's heavy breathing. Before they could get too carried away, she clasped Sera's hands in hers, staring up into her eyes. "Wait, slow down. Are you sure you want to—mmf!"

Sera's hot mouth had sealed over hers again, stalling her question. Need radiated from her every pore, and Herah realized that this wasn't just about making up. It was a way of reassuring each other, despite the urgent pace. Sera needed to believe that this moment was _real_ , and nothing else mattered. Herah gave in, fisting the bottom of Sera's shirt in her hands and allowing the insistent tongue pressing against her lips to push inside.

The groan that vibrated between their mouths told her she had made the right decision. While Sera devoured her, she ran her hands along the elf's lean back, trying to work her fastenings open. It took a bit of effort, but at last, she managed. Her hands glided over warm, naked skin, and she felt a spike of satisfaction as Sera stiffened above her.

"Inky..." She looked up as Sera broke away from their kiss, surprised by the sound of her own name. Part of her hadn't expected her lover to speak at all. "Promise you're not going to let Coryphy-spit or some stupid magic well or anything else take you away." When she didn't answer soon enough, the muscles of Sera's face tightened with sadness, and her eyes swelled with tears. " _Promise._ I need to hear you say it."

Herah knew she might not be able to keep such a vow, but it was what Sera needed to hear. She wanted to give Sera whatever she needed, as many times as she needed it, until she felt safe and secure again. "I promise."

Sera's face spread in a smile, and her tears welled over. "I love you, you stupid tit," she said, swiping at her own messy face with her sleeve. "Even though you keep almost dying. So _don't_ , or we won't be able to keep doing this..." She shrugged out of her shirt, tousling her hair in the process, and Herah's eyes zeroed in on her firm, high breasts. They were perfectly level with her face, and she leaned in, taking the pink point of Sera's nipple between her lips.

When her tongue flicked over the tip, Sera’s back arched. Herah sucked eagerly, and at the pressure, Sera clutched onto her arms. The hard, black lengths didn’t have sensation in themselves, but she could feel the force with which they were being gripped, letting her know just how desperately Sera needed contact. Trying to oblige, she took hold of the bare muscles of Sera’s back, massaging them while her tongue kept working on the stiff point of her nipple.

“Sodding hell, that’s good,” Sera gasped out. “But need to feel you, too.”

Small fingers tugged at the buttons of her armored coat, and Herah mumbled, “Mm, ‘kay.” Her mouth was too full of breast to be more coherent, but Sera seemed to get the idea. Once they pulled apart, the two of them went to work on her clothes. First her coat, then her bindings rapidly ended up joining the already considerable pile on the floor. Soon enough, she was bent back against the windowsill, with Sera’s face buried in her breasts, kissing every inch of skin she could get her lips on.

“That’s nice,” she murmured as Sera’s tongue flicked over her nipples. “Really, really nice…”  

Her voice trailed off once Sera reached the flat plane of her abdomen. Her lover wasn’t the only one who’d built up a load of tension that day, and she exhaled deeply, losing herself in what she was feeling. Sera’s enthusiasm helped her to blank out everything else. The hot mouth on her stomach paused, and Sera’s hands moved on to her pants, undoing the buttons and yanking them off with her smalls.

While Herah struggled to kick the last of her clothes away, Sera skipped right past the preliminaries. She dove right in, running her tongue along Herah’s already slick folds before sliding it inside of her. Herah’s inner walls rippled in response, and her hands clutched at whatever she could find, the windowsill and a cushion giving her something to hang onto as she spiraled out of control. Sera was relentless, fucking her with the point of her tongue while making sure to lap up the wetness flowing freely out of her.

It felt wonderful, but she wanted more. Wanted to be filled, taken, completely immersed in what she was feeling. “More,” she pleaded, and a pair of fingers joined that wonderful, wet tongue, giving her body the stretch it craved. Once Sera had set up a solid rhythm with her hand, she moved her mouth upwards. At the first brush of her lips, Herah let out a low groan. This was what she wanted, and when a third finger joined the first two, it got even better. She clenched down hard, unwilling to relinquish what she’d been given.

As Herah’s hips pushed forward in search of more, Sera looked up at her with burning eyes. “All mine,” she stated, pressing her fingers against Herah’s inner walls for emphasis. “All for me.”

“Yes,” she agreed desperately. “Just please, don’t stop.”

“Not gonna,” Sera assured her before bringing her mouth back. A harsh suck had Herah seeing stars, and her eyes squeezed shut at the intensity of the sensations. Sera’s fingers thrust as far into her as they could, and the tongue grazing her clit sped up. Under other circumstances, it might have been too much, but right then, it was exactly what she needed. What they both needed.

When her climax hit, she didn't try to hold back. She wasn't even sure if she could. It ripped through her body, leaving her a mess of shudders, and she screamed out something close to Sera's name as her muscles pulsed. She bucked, but somehow, Sera managed to follow her erratic movements, and the insistent tongue bringing her so much pleasure never stopped. Her clit twitched in the hot seal of Sera's lips, and she released in a rush of heat.

She kept shivering as her release spilled around Sera's fingers and into her palm. Her stomach muscles went rigid through most of the contractions, and colors burst inside her head. By the time she opened her eyes to watch what was happening between her legs, her vision was too fuzzy to make much sense of it. Sera's fingers were still thrusting, but the pressure of her mouth had eased a little, and the flicks of her tongue were lighter.

Herah groaned and fisted Sera's messy blonde hair, urging her to pull back. As much as she enjoyed the enthusiasm, her poor, over-stimulated body needed a break. Fortunately, Sera got the message. She removed her slick fingers and slid them into her mouth to clean them off. Meanwhile, Herah flopped sideways, unable to stand the windowsill digging into her spine any longer. An exhausted groan spilled from her lips, and she took several deep breaths, trying to summon enough willpower to pull Sera up onto the window-seat with her so that she could return the favor.

As it turned out, she didn't have to. Sera clambered back up on her own, looking much more cheerful than she had before. The confident gleam in her eyes had returned, and she seemed sufficiently convinced that neither of them were going to die in the immediate future. Herah smiled softly. As enjoyable as her orgasm had been, comforting her fearful lover was want she had wanted most. "Your turn?" she asked as Sera straddled her hips. It was a tight squeeze, mostly because of her large frame, but somehow, they both managed to fit.

Sera smirked and nodded. "You bet, Inky. _Woof._ "

Herah was only a little surprised when Sera started wiggling further up. She was grateful for the offer, because it meant she wouldn't have to leave her comfy position. She did, however, conjure up enough energy to stroke her hands up along Sera's lean thighs. The pale skin felt incredibly soft under her palms, and desire stirred within her again.

Her heart tripped in her chest as she got a good look between Sera's legs. "Maker," she said, a little breathless from staring. Sera was already glistening with wetness, and her clit was swollen beneath its hood. "I'm surprised you didn't want to go first."

"I could wait," Sera said. "Y'know, once you made the whole not-dying promise and all. Break that, and we'll have a problem. Yeah?"

Herah grinned. "Don't worry, Sera. I'm not going anywhere."

"Right. Good. Then get to work, because since you shoved your bits in my face, I've got a problem that needs taking care of." Sera gave her hips a forward push to emphasize her point, putting herself on further display.

"That's not exactly how I remember it," Herah teased. "What _I_ remember is you kissing your way down my body and—"

"Shut up. That mouth's done enough talking."

Herah did as she was told, pulling Sera up into her lap and putting her lips to better use.

 

***

 

Morrigan ran her hands through her hair, tugging hard enough that it brought a twinge of pain. She had managed to wrestle the voices of the Well under some sort of control, but her own head remained an uncomfortable place to be. Partly because of the wealth of knowledge and experience that she had only begun to plumb, but also because of her own feelings. In the years since Flemeth had sent her to travel by the Warden’s side, she had come to believe that she knew both who she was and the way that the world worked. But now…

Much of what she had learned of the elves and their gods was not what she would have expected. It was humbling to realize that even after all of her studies, she had only scratched the surface of many of the ancient mysteries. The revelations about herself were even worse. She had felt genuine relief when she awoke to see Cassandra’s face after absorbing the Well, and gratitude when the Seeker had helped her back to her quarters in Skyhold. And perhaps most damning of all, the look of betrayal in Cassandra’s eyes after Morrigan had run off in pursuit of Abelas had hurt. Her guilt was ridiculous, and stupid, and unreasonable, but it was still there, and Morrigan wasn’t going to get any peace until she dealt with it.

Sitting up in the bed that had failed to provide her with much sleep, Morrigan set herself to dressing. For the first part of her life, she had given little thought to what she wore. It was only her and Flemeth, after all, and her mother had no interest in anything so trivial as her choice of clothing. Her time at the Orlesian court, though, had given her a healthy respect for the effect that appearances could have on others. As she threw on her customary red top, she wondered if she shouldn’t pick out something less revealing for this meeting.

_No. I am uneasy enough with all of this. Let Cassandra feel the same way._

It was barely after sunrise when she left her quarters, but Morrigan was unsurprised to find the Seeker out in the practice yard, hacking away at one of those ridiculous dummies she was fond of hitting. As she approached, Cassandra either didn’t see her or didn’t bother acknowledging her presence, leaving Morrigan to begin the conversation. “Cassandra,” she started, uncomfortably aware of her own hesitation as she used the Seeker’s first name, “I hoped we might talk.”

“A moment. I am not quite finished.”

Cassandra resumed her exercises, and spite of how silly Morrigan usually found such displays of grunting and thrusting, she had to concede that the Seeker did look particularly striking. The lines of her muscles were clear beneath the tight white top she wore, and the sheen of sweat that glistened on her tanned skin in the early morning light was more appealing than Morrigan liked to admit.

With a final, powerful stroke, Cassandra crippled whatever phantom opponent she was fighting. She set down her sword and turned to Morrigan, wiping her brow clean.

“What was it that you wanted to discuss?” She sounded just as uncomfortable as Morrigan felt, even if she was trying to mask it beneath her gruffness.

“I thought I should explain what happened at the Temple of Mythal. ‘Tis possible I did not make my intentions clear at the time. When I left in pursuit of Abelas, it was not my intention to abandon you. I simply wished to reach the Well before he had the chance to destroy something that we had need of.”

“I see.” Cassandra turned back away from her, clearly unhappy with her words. “Is that all?”

_Damnation. Why must she be so difficult about this? Why must I care if she is?_

“I am sorry. Is that what you want of me? To hear me admit that I should have consulted with the rest of you before I left? Well, I admit it.”

Every word she spoke had to be forced out, but at least they had an effect. Cassandra turned back around, and when she did, her face had measurably softened. “It is a start,” the Seeker sighed. “Morrigan, I am tired of fighting like this. There must be a better way for us to handle our interactions.”

"I am relieved to hear you say that," Morrigan said, offering a hesitant smile. It was another act she wasn't accustomed to, at least not in situations like this, but she felt less tense afterward. "How do you suggest we begin? It might not always seem so, but I have a great deal of respect for your opinions. They have guided us well on many occasions."

Cassandra thought for a moment, her brow furrowing in concentration. It was a rather endearing expression, and Morrigan tried not to panic when she realized that she enjoyed seeing it. "First, I need to ask a question." She paused, and Morrigan nodded, indicating that she should continue. "Before you left to chase Abelas, you saved me from the Red Templars. You put yourself between me and a blow."

"You neglect to mention that I was a giant bear at the time," Morrigan pointed out. "In that form, I could take a blade more easily than you, sprawled on the ground without your shield."

"I know," Cassandra agreed, "and I am grateful. But why did you do it? Because you knew we needed to defeat the enemy to reach the Well and I would be of no use to you dead? Or because you didn't wish to see me harmed?"

Morrigan's heart sank with disappointment. She hadn't expected the question to be so piercing. "Was your opinion of me truly that low before, Cassandra? Of course I have no wish to see you harmed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Just because we have our occasional disagreements..." Cassandra let out an undignified snort, and instead of finding it annoying, Morrigan almost laughed. "Very well. Frequent disagreements," she amended. "But if you must hear me say it, I will. I saved you because I would never wish to see you harmed."

Cassandra remained quiet for some time, considering her words. Eventually, Morrigan could stand the awkward silence no longer. "Allow me to ask you a question in return. Why did you rush to help me after I drank from the Well? You seemed to care little for my wellbeing when the Inquisitor asked your opinion on who should drink."

The Seeker had the decency to look guilty. A blush touched her cheeks, and she reached behind her head to rub the back of her neck. The motion put her muscular arms in an even more appealing position. "I was angry," she said, and Morrigan was relieved to see that Cassandra was just as uncomfortable with apologies as she was. "You had abandoned us. Still, perhaps it was cruel of me to say that your life was of less value."

Morrigan dipped her head in acknowledgment. "You still have not answered my question. Why was yours the first face I saw when I opened my eyes? Why did you help me through the eluvian?"

"Because..." Cassandra let out a heavy sigh. "I do not make... friends... easily, but I think I would like to consider you one of mine. Despite everything."

Morrigan's eyebrow arched in surprised. "Everything? You mean my surly attitude, your astounding lack of social graces, and the extremely awkward encounter we shared in the Western Approach?"

"Yes," Cassandra gritted out. "That is what I was referring to."

It was Morrigan's turn to hesitate. She was not one for making friends either. More friends meant more opportunities to be hurt, and more chances to be disappointed. Her opinion of the world was too low to take the risk often. However, her time spent with the Warden had softened her, almost like a disease. Cassandra reminded her of the Warden in many ways, right down to her frustrating honesty, her obnoxious persistence, and her skill with a sword.

"I would like to consider you my friend as well," she admitted, a little grudgingly. "Perhaps we might not always be _friendly_ with each other, but you have my trust and my respect. It is a gift I rarely bestow, human nature being what it is. Despite your more frustrating qualities, you are a rather exceptional person."

Cassandra looked away, clearly astonished by Morrigan’s praise of her. When she had recovered her composure sufficiently, she extended a hand. “Friends, then?”

“So it would seem.” Morrigan took Cassandra’s hand, and as they shook, she felt a familiar charge run through her. It reminded her that she had not come down to the exercise yard simply to put an end to their bickering. Pulling back her hand, she asked, “And what of this other thing, this attraction between us? What shall we do about that?”

The Seeker bit at her lip, though she didn’t look surprised by the question. “I have no idea,” she confessed. “I have little enough experience with such things.”

Morrigan gave what she hoped was a friendly smile, such things not exactly being her forte. “Probably no less than I. But I know enough to realize that these feelings are not going away.”

“No, I suppose they are not,” Cassandra admitted.

“You told me once that you couldn’t pursue them. Do you still feel that way?”

Cassandra rubbed her forehead as she considered the question. Morrigan did not like how nervous waiting for a response made her. This vulnerability was exactly why she disliked emotional attachment, but she was not being given much say in the matter, not in her anxiety, nor in her relief when Cassandra said, “No.”

“No?”

“No, I am not sure I still feel that way, given our new understanding. But if we’re going to explore this further, I do not want it to be another squalid tryst on the floor of some ruin. We should do this properly, spend time together…”

Morrigan’s eyes widened as she realized what was being suggested. “You want us to go on a date?”

Cassandra looked distinctly uncomfortable, but she still responded, “I suppose that I do. Is that thought really so terrible?”

It should have been. A part of Morrigan wanted it to be a stupid, dreadful idea that she could dismiss with a derisive snort and a wry insult. Instead, she just said, “Tomorrow evening perhaps?”

Cassandra nodded, and Morrigan was distressed to realize how much she would be looking forward to their “date”.

_I suppose that if there is nothing to be done, I might as well try and enjoy this._


	17. Chapter 17

“What am I going to do now?”

Cassandra’s distress seemed to amuse Leliana. The spymaster was giving her one of those sly smiles that was more endearing when directed at someone else. “Why, go on your date of course,” she declared. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes… and no,” Cassandra admitted, slumping back against the wall of the rookery. “Since I cannot escape this attraction, pursuing it in a… less shameful fashion seemed to be a good idea.  But now that Morrigan has agreed, I have no idea what to do next.”

That earned her a puzzled look. “I know you are inexperienced, but I thought you had been in a relationship before.”

“Once,” she admitted, “but it was with a man. He was the one who courted me. With another woman, I wouldn’t know what to do, or what is expected of me. You know more of these things.  Help me?”

Leliana’s amusement turned into full-blown laughter. “You are making too much of this, Cassandra. There are no hard and fast rules. Not for two women, and not even for men and women, no matter what those books of yours have made you think.”  

Cassandra’s cheeks flushed. It wasn’t too surprising that Leliana knew about her smutty taste in literature, but it was still embarrassing. “I do not know what you mean by that,” she mumbled.

Leliana brushed right past her denials. “And even if there were rules, do you really think they would apply to Morrigan? She is hardly a conventional person.”

She sighed. “No, she is certainly not that. It’s only… I wish there were rules. Some way to know what I should do. I cannot seem to banish these desires. I cannot even stop myself from caring about Morrigan. It seems I have no choice but to make this work.”

“Then let us find a way for you to do so.” Lelaina came over to her, putting a friendly hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps we should think of something you both enjoy, that you can discuss on your date.”

Cassandra ran her hand through her hair. “I do not know what that could be. Most of our time together has been spent bickering. Contempt seems to be her primary response to most of what she encounters.”

Leliana’s smile was positively devilish. “Well, there is something you two have in common.”

“I?”

“You must admit, you can be rather dismissive at times.”

“Merely because most people fail to live up to reasonable standards of…” Her words trailed off.  “Are you seriously suggesting that we should bond over our disdain for fools?” Leliana simply continued smiling at her, and she sighed. Her friend was far too good at this sort of thing for comfort. “Perhaps you are right.”

“Very good, then. Some amusing anecdotes about the people both of you know might help to break the tension. Do you recall the time Varric tried to convince those mercenaries that he was third in line to the throne of Orzammar? I think that story should amuse Morrigan.”

The memory managed to coax a smile to Cassandra’s lips. Having a plan made her feel a bit less like she was about to face an Archdemon in nothing but her smallclothes. “It might serve. Thank you, Leliana. You have always been a good friend, in spite of how difficult I can be to help.”

“Think nothing of it. You know I’m a romantic. Somewhat like you, I think,” she added with a wry grin. “As much as you might try to deny it.”

Cassandra shook her head. Leliana always could talk circles around her, and all she could think to say was, “We shall see, I suppose.”

“We shall. But before you go, I have something for you.” Leliana walked over to her desk and picked up a wooden box, perhaps a foot long and half that high, offering it to Cassandra. “Actually, it’s from Dagna, but she told me to give it to you.”

She didn’t entirely trust the smile on Leliana’s face, but she took the box anyway.  It wasn’t overly heavy, and it didn’t make any sound that provided a clue as to what might be inside. Pinned to its lid, though, was a note in what she recognized to be the dwarven enchanters’ messy writing.

_Open me if the date is going well._

Cassandra stared at it in confusion, though she soon realized that the box’s contents weren’t the only mystery she had to contend with. “Leliana, wait. How did Dagna know about this date at all? I have told no one but you, and I cannot imagine that Morrigan would have done so.”

“Oh, eavesdroppers I suspect. I fear that by this point, all of the Inquisition knows what you have planned. Skyhold has few secrets, and your relationship with Morrigan has become quite the subject of conversation.”

Cassandra sighed. It was embarrassing to be sure, but by this point, she had become resigned to her fate. It was already far too late for any hope of dignity.

* * *

"So, what am I to do? I possess many talents, but maintaining an engaging conversation over dinner isn't one of them." Morrigan sighed and brought her hand up to her face, pinching her tense forehead between her fingers. Her nerves were growing worse and worse as evening approached, and the knot in her stomach was decidedly unpleasant as well.

"You were Empress Celene's advisor," Leliana pointed out. "You would never have survived at Halamshiral without some knowledge of social interaction." She finished the message she had been scrawling with a flourish and rolled it up, searching her worktable for a piece of twine.

Secretly, Morrigan was relieved that Leliana was only half paying attention to her. It made their conversation slightly less awkward. "Yes, but I cared little for the court's opinion of me."

Leliana left her chair and made her way over to one of the rookery's many hanging cages. "But you do care about Cassandra's opinion?" she asked as she withdrew one of her messenger birds.

Morrigan avoided her eyes. "Yes," she admitted, with more than a tinge of reluctance. Just remembering the look of betrayal on Cassandra's face when she had abandoned the Inquisition in the Arbor Wilds made her heart clench in a painful and unfamiliar way. There was no denying it. For reasons beyond her understanding, she wanted Cassandra to like her. Not fear her, respect her, or desire her, but like her as a person. The closest she had ever come to feeling that way about anyone before had been the Warden, and it had been uncomfortable then too.

Leliana shot her a small, irritating smile as she carried the bird over to the window. "And you care enough about my opinion to seek my counsel? Wonderful news. Soon, you might even have a lover and friends like most of the rest of Thedas."

It went against her instincts, but Morrigan ignored the teasing. She still needed advice, whether Leliana was going to be smug about it or not. "You still have not answered my question," she said, trying to change the subject. "Sex and desire have always been simple for me, but how do you... encourage someone to like you?"

"Cassandra already likes you. She agreed to spend the evening with you, didn't she?" Leliana sent the bird off into the air with a jerk of her wrist, and Morrigan noticed that the sky outside was growing darker by the minute. She was running out of time.

"You are being deliberately vague, and I do not appreciate it," she snapped. "Are you willing to help me or not?"

Leliana turned back to face her and lowered her hood, revealing more of her face. "Tell me, how did the Warden gain your trust, Morrigan?"

Morrigan thought for several moments. "She gave me a mirror. It looked just like one I treasured when I was a child. Oh, and she killed Flemeth at my request... although that did not go precisely as planned."

"Go back to the mirror," Leliana said. "She decided to give you a present because..."

Morrigan pulled a face. "Because she hoped to bribe me into becoming a more cooperative member of her insane party of misfits?"

This time, it was Leliana's turn to bring her hand to her forehead. "Because she listened to you, Morrigan," she groaned. "The gift didn't make you happy just because you enjoy staring at your own reflection, did it? It made you happy because it showed that she had been listening to what you had to say, and that she found it important enough to remember."

Realization dawned. It seemed so simple when Leliana spelled it out, and she felt like a fool. "But what kind of gift could I find for Cassandra? I hardly have time to interrogate her about all her interests before tonight."

"You are making this far too complicated," Leliana said. "What does Cassandra enjoy?"

"The Chantry, Andrastian things..." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. No matter how much she... liked... Cassandra, she wasn't about to start reciting the odious Chant of Light. "Weapons, armor, books..." She paused. That idea had promise. "Tell me more about that awful serial she likes. What was it called again?"

Morrigan did not at all like the bemused smile that spread across Leliana’s face at her question. “I assume you are referring to _Swords and Shields_.”

“I believe that is the one.”

“Well, I know that she is very much waiting for the next installment. I understand that the heroine was left in some peril at the end of the previous book.”

Morrigan tapped her fingers on the stone, the germ of an idea starting to form in her mind.  “I see. And it is Varric who writes this story?”

“It is.” Something of her plan must have been apparent on Morrigan’s face, because Leliana smirked before she asked, “Just what are you going to do with this information?”

Morrigan picked up her staff from the table she’d left it leaning against.  “Let us just say that there are a few advantages to being, as Sera called me, a spooky mage.”

***

The moon had already risen by the time Cassandra heard the approaching footsteps. At once, she stopped her pacing, pivoting in the direction of the sound. Morrigan hadn’t changed out of her usual outfit for their date, but that was more than enough to get Cassandra’s attention. In recent weeks, she had become increasingly, uncomfortably aware of the considerable expanses of skin the clothes revealed, something the night’s purpose only heightened.

“I was beginning to fear Scout Harding hadn’t delivered my message properly,” she said as Morrigan entered the circle of light the fire was casting.

“‘Twas not her fault,” Morrigan replied. “There was something I had to do before coming here.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find us a more suitable setting, but Skyhold has very little of the sort of luxury you must have gotten used to at the Winter Palace. I thought perhaps it was best to keep it simple.”

Morrigan offered her a small smile. “Fear not. I may have spent my time in Orlais recently, but I was raised in the Korcari Wilds. Dining under the stars is something I’m quite familiar with. Besides, the view is pleasant enough.”

That was a understatement, Cassandra thought. The mountains around Skyhold, bathed in moonlight, were one of the most spectacular views of the Maker’s creation she had ever seen, as inspiring as any cathedral. Still, she knew Morrigan didn’t share her faith, and this wasn’t the right time for such a discussion.

“I have bread and cheese, and some chicken we can roast,” she said as she sat down next to the fire, “As well as what I am assured is a very good wine.”

Morrigan sat down as well, setting her staff and a small bag on the ground. She wasn’t quite next to Cassandra, but she was close enough to reach out and touch. _At least if things go well._ “You are assured? I know you are a member of the Navarran nobility. Surely you must have been taught about their various affectations.”

“I was a very poor student,” she admitted. “Aside from my devotional instructions and martial training, I seldom followed my lessons very well. But Josephine says that this vintage is excellent, and I trust her judgement in such matters.”

“First Scout Harding and now Josephine. It seems you have enlisted quite the retinue to help you prepare for this evening.”

Cassandra could feel her face reddening. “I am sorry if I should not have done that,” she said. “I would have kept our date a secret if Leliana had not told me that much of Skyhold was already aware of it.”

Morrigan held up a hand. “There is no need to apologize. I… sought help as well. Which reminds me, I have a gift for you.”

Her words made Cassandra’s heart beat a little faster. Not at what the gift itself might be, but at what it symbolized. She had spent the previous day and a half agonizing over how she could make this evening work, but until this moment, she’d thought she might be the only one. I wasn’t, she realized. _Morrigan cares about this too._ The thought both thrilled and terrified her, but before she could dwell on it, the witch offered her a small package. It was covered in a leather wrapping, and when she undid it, her eyes widened.  “Is this…”

“Yes. The next installment of _Swords and Shields_.”

“But how did you get ahold of it? It is not supposed to be released for months. I did not even realize Varric had even finished writing it.”

“I can be quite persuasive when I want to be,” Morrigan replied dryly.

Cassandra opened the manuscript, flipping through the pages. “What happens at the Guard-Captain’s trial? She has to be exonerated. She was falsely accused, and the real murderer…”

Morrigan gave her a wry smile. “You realize I have not actually read the book? Or any of the preceding volumes?”

“Of... of course not,” Cassandra stammered.  “I must seem quite the fool.”

“Perhaps. But I am still glad you like the gift.”

They fell quiet for a few moments, but the silence wasn't an uncomfortable one. Cassandra closed the manuscript and held it against her chest, giving Morrigan a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said at last. "This was a very thoughtful present."

To her delight, Morrigan returned her smile. "I can be thoughtful, when I choose. Perhaps that is why your company unsettled me so before now. I am not accustomed to other people noticing my friendlier qualities, however sparse they may be."

"I wouldn't call them sparse," Cassandra replied.

Morrigan laughed, and Cassandra tried not to notice the way the stars shone in her dark hair as a few strands fell loose around her face. "Others might disagree. But you... you thought well of me even when you did not like me. Otherwise, you would not have been so angry when I left you in the Arbor Wilds. Being held in such high esteem is strange."

"I cannot be the first person to like you, Morrigan," Cassandra protested. "You have many, um..." While she could list several things she admired about Morrigan, her courage deserted her before she could speak them aloud. She suspected most of them would sound sappy, foolish, or overtly sexual coming from her lips. "... admirable qualities."

Thankfully, Morrigan was not offended. In fact, she seemed pleased. "If that was supposed to be a compliment concerning my appearance, I accept. 'Tis flattering to be appreciated while the two of us are not under the influence of magic."

Being reminded of their torrid encounter in the Western Approach made Cassandra flush. The heat of the fire was nothing compared to the burning points of her cheeks. She and Morrigan had barely discussed their awkward coupling since it happened, a decision she was starting to regret. Perhaps if they had talked about it a bit more thoroughly before, it wouldn't have felt so embarrassing now. "Does remembering the... incident... ever upset you?" she asked, with more than a little hesitance.

Morrigan gave her a look of what almost seemed like approval. "Of course. 'Tis most upsetting to lose control of your body and inhibitions, and such an experience could be considered a gross violation. But if you are asking whether I regret the fact that you were the one in the temple with me, the answer is no. Not at all. Indeed, it was most fortuitous."

Cassandra hadn't known it was possible to blush any more fiercely. She was intensely grateful for the darkness, hoping it would hide some of her embarrassment. "I agree. Can you imagine the same thing happening with someone like Sera?"

"Please, abandon that thought before I lose my appetite," Morrigan groaned. "T'would be a shame to waste this fine meal you have brought. So, I was curious… had you taken notice of me before our journey to the Western Approach?"

Cassandra's brow furrowed as she considered how best to answer. "Perhaps. At the time, I convinced myself I simply wanted to keep a close eye on you."

"Ah, I see," Morrigan said, leaning forward slightly. It caused her flowing red shirt to drape lower, revealing even more of her cleavage, and Cassandra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "You wished to make sure the mysterious apostate meant the Inquisition no harm?"

"Yes," Cassandra said, still trying not to stare. "But I was wrong. Later, I had to admit I was watching you for other reasons. I had never taken notice of another woman before. It was… unsettling."

Morrigan's brows lifted in surprise. "Unsettling? How so?"

"My previous relationship was with a man. Women never interested me until..." She couldn't avoid looking at Morrigan any longer. To her relief, there was no judgment on the witch's face. She was still smiling, a rare, private gesture Cassandra was swiftly learning to enjoy—especially when it was directed at her.

"I suppose the fact that you are a novice makes your performance in the Western Approach all the more impressive."

Cassandra nearly dropped the manuscript sitting on her lap. "I... er, thank you?" she stammered, clearing her throat before trying again. "I suppose this means you are not as inexperienced as I am?"

Morrigan's lashes lowered over her dark, hooded eyes. "I have been with my fair share of both men and women. It matters little to me. In other respects, however, my requirements are much more stringent. You are the first person to hold my attention beyond a single night in a very long time."

Cassandra had no idea how to respond. She groped for words, but remained embarrassingly frozen as Morrigan shifted closer to her. She almost forgot how to breathe when their arms brushed together. Her head spun as she tried to decide whether turning to face Morrigan was appropriate or not. Surely it is. _I must seem a fool, staring straight ahead into the fire while she is right next to me._

When she looked, her heart clenched. Morrigan was beautiful. Not simply attractive, or alluring, or seductive with so much skin on display. Beautiful. Her face was softer than Cassandra could ever remember seeing it, and she seemed almost hopeful. Without conscious thought, she found herself leaning closer. "Morrigan..."

A sharp rustling sound startled her out of her haze. She jerked back just as Morrigan dipped in, looking around for the source of the noise. "Wait. Did you hear that?"

"I hear your heartbeat and your breathing, but little else. 'Tis loud enough to wake the dead." A soft hand cupped her cheek, guiding her back around. This time, she couldn't break the spell. When Morrigan's warm lips met hers, she closed her eyes and melted into the kiss, forgetting about everything else.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took us a little longer than usual to get this update done. We had a section written that we then decided to move to the next chapter, necessitating some re-writes. Hopefully you'll think it was worth the wait.

“I still can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Sera was unmoved by her grumbling. “Come on, Inky. Don’t you want to see if our fix-up worked?”

“I’m not sure we can actually claim the credit for this date,” Herah argued. “And keep your voice down. Sound travels a lot further in these mountains than in the alleys of Val Royeaux.”

Sera shook her head. “Oh, fine. But I’m still gonna get my look.”

Herah decided not to argue any further, instead settling into a sullen silence as the two of them climbed towards the meeting place. In the distance, she could see the light of Cassandra’s campfire and she held up a hand.  “Not too close, Sera…. Sera?”

Unfortunately, the elf had already slunk ahead of her, hopping down to get a better view of the action. Cassandra and Morrigan were already there, sitting in front of the fire, and Herah had no choice but to follow Sera to the crevice she was now perched in.

It wasn’t a simple task. A woman her size wasn’t easy to miss, and her years of training hadn’t focused on sneaking about in the dark. Fortunately, the couple they were there to observe seemed far too caught up with each other to notice anything else, and she was able to get to Sera’s side without being spotted. “Do you ever listen to me?” she whispered as she knelt behind a rocky outcropping.

“Only when you’re sayin’ good stuff, Inky. Most times, you’re lots of fun, but once in awhile, you can be a real stick in the mud.”

A roll of her eyes and a shake of her head were Herah’s only response as she settled into a somewhat uncomfortable crouch. From what she could see, the date did seem to be going smoothly. The two curmudgeons were sitting close to each other, and even though Herah couldn’t make out everything they were saying, the general tenor of their conversation was clearly friendly. Sera, though, seemed to have fixated on something else.

“Hey, you notice something weird, Inky?”

Herah raised an eyebrow, unsure of what her girlfriend meant. “Besides the fact that Cassandra and Morrigan are being nice to each other, and I’m hiding behind a rock in the middle of the night? No.”

“It’s the food. They haven’t eaten any of it and here I am, bloody starving.”

“Well, you could’ve had something before we left.”

“Wasn’t time. Woulda missed all the good parts.”

Herah snorted, but before she could actually say anything, Cassandra suddenly jerked away from Morrigan, whipping around to stare in their general direction. Herah grabbed Sera’s shoulder, holding her still and praying they wouldn’t be spotted. Fortunately, the Seeker’s attention was soon diverted again. Even at that distance, it was clear what was going on as the two women fell into a passionate embrace. Herah had to use her hand to muffle a whoop of approval from Sera. She shared the sentiment, but for everyone’s sake, it would be better if Cassandra and Morrigan didn’t discover them right then.

The kiss wasn’t ending quickly, and when Morrigan began untucking Cassandra’s shirt, Herah whispered, “Okay, I think it’s time for us to go.”

“Aw, c’mon, Inky,” Sera replied, thankfully keeping her voice low for once. “They’re just getting started.”

“And we’re not going to be the pervs in the bushes watching them. I think it’s fair to say their date is going well. Let’s leave it at that.”

Sera grumbled in annoyance, but she did follow along, and the two of them crept away from the campfire and back into the hills.  The new lovers were thankfully too enamored of each other to notice their departure, but they hadn’t made it very far along the road back to Skyhold before movement drew Herah’s eye.

“A pleasant evening for a stroll, isn’t it, Inquisitor?” Leliana remarked as she vaulted down from the upper ridgeline and joined them on the path.

“Uh, yeah, definitely,” Herah said, perhaps too quickly. “Just enjoying a nice, romantic walk together.”

“Don’t be daft, Inky,” Sera laughed. “Red was doing what we were, getting a good peep in.”

Herah rolled her eyes again, something she’d found herself doing a lot these days. “Really?  You too?”

“Perhaps,” Leliana replied with a sly smile. “But if I had been doing what you suggest, I would have made certain no one else noticed me there.”

“Hey,” Sera protested, “We didn’t get spotted neither.”

“Not by the happy couple anyway,” Leliana replied. “And that, I suspect, is only because they were rather preoccupied. Even then, it was a narrow thing. Cassandra did turn in your direction.”

Herah could feel her cheeks reddening. “All right, all right, you got us. But we were just concerned about them. They aren’t exactly adept when it comes to romance.”

Leliana laughed. “I don’t know. They seemed to be doing just fine when we left them.”

"Right?" Sera snickered. Her grin stretched from ear to ear, and she looked incredibly pleased with herself as she skipped happily along the path. "Grumpy and witchy didn't even need magic to work out what goes where this time. Maybe they've finally figured out knocking boots is better than knocking heads, yeah?"

"Let's hope it lasts," Herah opined, unable to muster quite the same enthusiasm. "We're the ones who have to live with them if they get into any lover's quarrels."

Sera slung an arm about her waist, giving her a lopsided hug. "Wrong again, Inky," she crowed, far too loud for comfort. "'Coz _we've_ got blackmail material! This is better than pudding."

Leliana gave Sera a sidelong glance. "Pudding?"

"Watching them not eat made her hungry," Herah said by way of explanation. Sera lifted her hand and opened her mouth, probably to make a rude gesture and equally rude sounds, but Herah didn't give her the chance. "And would you please stop that? If Morrigan hears us, just remember that _you_ have the shortest legs."

"You'd carry me," Sera retorted, although she did lower her voice.

Herah decided that was as close to acceptable behavior as she was going to get. "I love you, but not that much. It's everyone for themselves when Morrigan's angry."

* * *

_I have no idea what I am doing._

That terrifying realization almost made Cassandra yank her mouth away from Morrigan's, but she couldn't will herself to move. Kissing Morrigan was proving to be just as addictive without magic. Her head wouldn't stop spinning and the warmth of the other woman’s lips sent heat rushing through every inch of her body. It was familiar, and yet so very different from all the kisses she had experienced before. Its intensity frightened her even as her heart leapt for joy.

 _Kiss her back, you idiot_ , she thought, but panic gripped her when she realized she didn't have a clue how Morrigan preferred to be kissed. Softly? Firmly? With tongue? Without? What had seemed intuitive between them back in the ruins suddenly wasn't, and the fear of doing something wrong sent her reeling.

Fortunately, Morrigan didn't let her flounder for long. A soft hand cupped the back of her neck, applying light pressure until she tilted her head the right way. Cassandra couldn't help groaning as Morrigan's tongue swept across her bottom lip, a tease instead of a demand. It was so distracting that she barely noticed Morrigan's other hand un-tucking the hem of her shirt until it grazed her abdomen. The touch sent a heavy throb straight between her legs, and she broke away to gasp in surprise.

Morrigan looked at her in confusion, brow furrowed, and Cassandra was struck with the sudden impulse to smooth the worry line away. "Please, keep your hand where it is," she said before Morrigan could withdraw it. "I just... it has been a _very_ long time since I have done this."

"Only a few weeks," Morrigan pointed out with a soft smile. "Hardly enough time to forget."

She was right, but that didn't make Cassandra feel any better. Without magical assistance to strip away her inhibitions, she felt more clueless than ever.

"Breathe, Cassandra," Morrigan said, stroking her side. Although it was meant to be comforting—an unexpected but welcome gesture—it had an entirely different effect. The throbbing grew worse, and Cassandra had to swallow down a moan. She hadn't known a single touch could threaten to undo her so. "Perhaps you need to hear that I have no expectations beyond this. We are here to enjoy each other's company, however we decide to do so."

"Surely it can’t be that simple," Cassandra said, but she did feel a little better. She sensed that Morrigan wasn't usually much for reassurances, and the fact that she had made a sincere effort to give one was strangely sweet.

Morrigan arched a brow in her direction. "And why not? While I find sex enjoyable, 'tis hardly a requirement for a pleasant evening. I would like to continue kissing you, however, if you have no objections."

Cassandra sighed with relief. Hearing that Morrigan didn't expect sex made the prospect itself far less frightening. "More kissing. Good. I can do that." She gathered her courage and leaned in.

Morrigan proved to be a very good teacher. She was a natural at giving wordless suggestions, and Cassandra picked up on the ground rules quickly. When Morrigan pressed on the back of her neck, she deepened the kiss. When Morrigan fisted the back of her shirt, she drew back and parted her lips for the heat of the witch's tongue. All the while, Morrigan's hand clasped her hip, burning as it pressed against her bare skin. It was incredibly distracting, but in a very pleasant way. The colorful spinning in her head actually left her feeling giddy.

She broke the string of kisses first, but only so she could peel her shirt up and off. She knew Morrigan wouldn't attempt to remove it until she gave some sign that she wanted it gone, but their closeness had left her uncomfortably warm. "You don't mind—?" she started to ask, but Morrigan cut her off with another hard kiss, an obvious sign of approval. Cassandra dropped her shirt on the ground without a second thought. Her hands moved up, hesitating for a moment before coming to rest on Morrigan's waist.

The feel of naked flesh beneath her palms made her gasp into Morrigan's lips. She had forgotten just how little the witch’s shirt covered. However, she let her fingers remain there, especially when the heat of Morrigan's mouth broke away to begin trailing down her throat. That brought back memories of the ruins, and a groan rumbled in her chest. Thinking on that encounter was usually embarrassing, confusing, and sometimes painful, but all of a sudden, recalling the desperate hunger with which Morrigan had consumed her made her feel proud.

 _Perhaps it wasn't only magic_ , she thought as Morrigan latched onto her pulse-point. The barest edge of the witch's teeth made her shudder and tilt her chin to offer more access. _She is behaving the same way, as though she desires me just as much without it._

"Your skin tastes the same," Morrigan murmured, sending a rush of hot breath over the light mark she had left. "No..." She placed another open-mouthed kiss there, and Cassandra felt it straight between her legs. " _Better_."

Cassandra had no idea how Morrigan could pick up on her private thoughts so easily, but she didn't care. The lips exploring her shoulder and the hands running along her lower back felt so genuine, and it was their eagerness that left her feeling safe enough to continue. She wanted to return the favor. She wanted to show Morrigan that her feelings of desire were real, too. Carefully, she cupped the witch’s face, urging her to look up. "Your shirt," she whispered, more than a little breathless. "How do I take it off?"

Morrigan's eyes flashed, though her smile was surprisingly soft. She left their embrace, but only to turn around and offer her back. "The ties are simple enough, but had you chosen to snap them instead, I would have forgiven you."

The low purr of desire in Morrigan's voice and the smooth, pale expanse of her back almost made Cassandra forget her purpose. However, she managed to untie the strings that kept Morrigan's flowing shirt together with only a little fumbling. As the fabric washed apart to either side, she couldn't resist placing a kiss at the top of Morrigan's spine. A few stray wisps of dark hair tickled her cheek, and on impulse, she began undoing Morrigan's bun as well. She didn't know why, but the thought of seeing Morrigan's hair loose and flowing down her back made her ache.

Thankfully, Morrigan did not object. Her shirt fell off as her hair tumbled down, and when she turned again, Cassandra could only stare in awe. Morrigan was breathtaking. She had noticed this before, of course, but it had never threatened to stop her heart quite like this. Morrigan seemed somehow softer without her jewelry and her ever-present scowl, with her skin bared and her hair spilling over her shoulders. Her soft, full breasts were even more beautiful when they weren't being framed by her scooping shirt, and the tips had already hardened to stiff pebbles.

"You have my permission to touch, you know," Morrigan said, but for once, her teasing wasn't sharp.

Cassandra snapped out of her stupor, embarrassed that she had been caught staring for so long. "I forget what I am doing when I look at you," she confessed, certain her face with turning red. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Now it was Morrigan’s turn to blush, something Cassandra was surprised she was capable of. “Thank you for that. You are... most appealing to look at as well.”

Cassandra wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and so she decided to simply kiss Morrigan again. This time, was more sure of herself, not hesitating as she pulled the witch close. But as appealing as the heat of Morrigan’s mouth was, it didn’t seem enough. The feel of their bodies pressing together, her nipples brushing against Cassandra’s chest, was making the throb between her legs steadily worse. She hadn’t realized how badly she had been craving this. Ever since that day in the ruins, she’d done her best to push aside the memories of what they’d done there, but now the urge to recapture that pleasure was becoming unbearable.

Tentatively, she brushed her fingers over the swell of Morrigan’s breast. The creamy skin was soft under her fingers, and she lingered on each curve. She was yearning for more, and yet she couldn’t make herself rush. Their first time together had been so frantic that she wanted to savor every moment of this one.

Morrigan’s body arched, and when Cassandra pressed her thumb against the stiffness of a nipple, a small moan came from the witch’s lips. The sound made Cassandra’s shiver. It was low and thick with desire, a reminder of a hundred more she had drawn out, and a thousand more that she wanted to.

The sharpness of her building desire left her helpless when Morrigan reciprocated, cupping Cassandra’s breasts in her palms and using them to guide her onto her back. Morrigan’s hands slid along her body, even while her mouth found the soft skin of Cassandra’s neck, nipping at it one second before planting a gentler kiss in the same spot the next. The contrast was enough to make her cry out, a mixture of pleasure and aching need filling her voice. This felt so good, and yet she needed more, needed everything…

Suddenly, Morrigan stopped. She sat back on her knees and firelight danced in her yellow eyes. “Shall I pleasure you first? It seems as though you require it.”

Cassandra wanted to insist that she could see to Morrigan first, but her reply caught it her throat, choked off by her desire. Morrigan took her response as an answer, moving to unlace her boots, and once they were off, she began to run her hands along length of Cassandra’s trousers.

_Perhaps this will help me to learn what to do for her._

It might have been a rationalization, but Cassandra couldn’t do any better. Not when Morrigan was looking at her with such hunger. Not when Cassandra was sure she was already soaking through her smalls. All she managed was a nod, and a quiet, “Yes,” but it was enough. Morrigan’s hand cupped between her legs, and even while Cassandra moaned, her pants were being undone and pulled off of her, her smalls being taken at the same time.

“Most appealing indeed,” Morrigan repeated as she stared at her, but in spite of the way she was exposed, Cassandra felt safe, only aroused by the eyes now drinking in her nakedness. As strange as it was, she trusted Morrigan, not only to bring her pleasure but not to hurt her.

Morrigan knelt between her legs, placing kisses up and down their length. The muscles tensed, and Cassandra’s throat went dry with anticipation. Her fingers tangled in Morrigan’s hair, silently urging her to move upwards. She did so, but with torturous slowness, her tongue making Cassandra’s skin hum as seemingly every inch of it was licked and kissed.

“Please,” she whispered huskily, “I need more.”

“It will be my pleasure.” That teasing edge was back in Morrigan’s voice, but under the circumstances, it was far more arousing than infuriating. The witch’s mouth ran along the sensitive edge of her inner thigh, and Cassandra bit her lip in an attempt to stifle further embarrassing pleas.

“My, what a delicious sight,” Morrigan purred, but before Cassandra could say anything, the witch’s tongue finally reached its destination. A single flick over her opening was enough to send shockwaves through her body and Morrigan made more of them, lapping up the wetness that was flowing out even while her fingers slid through Cassandra’s folds.

Taken together, it was almost too intense. Cassandra's eyes rolled back, and her hands grasped helplessly at Morrigan's shoulders. She didn't feel confident enough to offer direction by pushing on Morrigan's head, but she needed _something_ to hold onto. Her hips jerked, and she fought to keep them still, unwilling to do anything to disturb the wonderful tongue working against her. The smooth, hot velvet of Morrigan's mouth was swiftly becoming her new favorite thing.

As Morrigan's explorations wandered up to the stiff bud of her clit, Cassandra wasn't sure what to think about the slow pace. It was both torturous and a relief at the same time. She appreciated the chance to get used to the gliding warmth, the growing pressure, and the gentle sucking, but whenever she began to relax, Morrigan changed her approach. The constant shifts made her fingers and toes clench, and soon, gasps were spilling from between her parted lips. Her face burned with embarrassment. She hadn't realized she was capable of making such needy sounds.

Her desperate noises only seemed to encourage Morrigan further. The soft, wet strokes over her clit became a seal, and the tightness made stars explode behind her eyes. She hissed and dug her nails in, unsure whether to arch toward the touch or pull away from it. The last thing she wanted was for Morrigan to stop, but she was rising more rapidly than she ever had before. The loss of control was frightening, and her next cry contained both pleasure and uncertainty.

Once again, Morrigan seemed to understand. She slowed down, and Cassandra shuddered as firm fingertips crept up along her thigh instead. She was aware of them long before they moved beneath Morrigan's chin, and when they brushed over her entrance, asking for permission to go further, she was mostly prepared. She tilted her hips up, and Morrigan slid inside of her with a single finger. Her wetness made it easy to accept, and if her voice hadn't completely deserted her, she would have asked for more.

To her surprise, Morrigan did not start thrusting. Instead, the witch started curling inside her, as if searching for something. Cassandra's brow knitted in confusion, but her eyes snapped open when Morrigan found what she was looking for. She inhaled sharply, rising up on her elbows to look down at what was happening between her legs. Morrigan's eyes were hooded, but the pleased look in them was undeniable. She knew what she had done, and she had every intention of doing it over and over.

For this first time, Morrigan adopted a steady approach. She hooked her fingers against that sensitive spot again, and Cassandra had to dig her heels into the grass to stay still. It wasn't _fair_ how good it felt, how easily Morrigan had discovered her body's secrets. She didn't even bother trying to stifle the groans that slipped from her throat. They were inevitable, just like the climax Morrigan was building within her.

When the ache swelled to something near unbearable, she forced herself to give a warning. "Morrigan," she blurted out, too close to care when the name tripped over her tongue. "Morrigan, I need..." Cassandra had no idea what she needed, but apparently, Morrigan did. One finger became two, and Morrigan's mouth folded her clit in again, somehow managing to suck and lick at the same time.

Cassandra's muscles pulled taut, and she suddenly realized how powerless she was, even without the effects of the magic. She both craved and feared what would happen when she reached the edge, but there was no stopping it now. All she could do was let herself fall and pray to the Maker that Morrigan would catch her.

When her orgasm hit, she couldn't even breathe. Her hips hovered several inches off the ground, and she finally fisted Morrigan's dark hair, unable to help herself. She clutched at the witch’s fingers, pulsing each time they pressed into her, and a scream broke in her chest as waves of heat overwhelmed her. They carried her higher and higher, and her vision began to blur.

It didn't blur enough, however, to wash away Morrigan's face. Cassandra's heart fluttered when she realized that there was no one else she would rather see at the height of her pleasure. It was a surprising revelation, and one that shook her even harder than her release. She had known that she was attracted to Morrigan, and even that she liked and admired her. But this... she refused to put words to it. She had only felt this way once before, and she feared a label would ruin everything.

Morrigan didn't give her the chance to dwell. The witch seemed determined to milk every bit of pleasure out of her. By the time her tongue stopped lashing and her fingers stopped stroking, Cassandra was covered in sweat, and her trembling body was sprawled out across the ground in a very undignified pose. She blinked to clear her head, and gradually, the night sky above her came into focus. "I... I have no words," she muttered, knowing she should thank Morrigan, but unsure how to describe what they had just done.

"You do not need them," Morrigan drawled. The witch prowled up along her body like a cat stalking its prey, yellow eyes narrowed and full lips glistening. "I have better uses in mind for your mouth. That is, if you wish to return the favor..."


	19. Chapter 19

“Of course I do,” Cassandra said, slowly finding her voice. “Though perhaps I could have a moment first. You have left me somewhat winded.”

“Certainly,” Morrigan replied with a wry smile. “I shall take that as a compliment.”

Nor did Morrigan mind the view while she waited. The sight of Cassandra’s body in the firelight, naked and slick with sweat, was a delight. She couldn’t help lazily running her fingers up and down its tight muscles and firm curves, enjoying the way Cassandra sighed in response. 

A small part of her was worried she liked it a bit  too  much. After all, the Seeker was hardly the first comely person she had met, nor even that she had slept with. And yet, she had never been so entranced by any of her past partners. Surely it was a further sign of the creeping weakness that had been afflicting her. But what was to be done? Whatever spell this was, she was by now thoroughly under its power, and she might as well enjoy the benefits. Bending down, she closed her lips around a still swollen nipple, drawing an appreciative moan from Cassandra.

“M—Morrigan,” the Seeker stammered, gripping at Morrigan’s bare back, “I thought you wanted me to…”

“I do.” She lifted her head up, letting Cassandra see the desire in her eyes.  “It merely seemed so inviting that I could not help myself.”

Her words seemed to inspire fresh energy in Cassandra, because the Seeker reached down and drew Morrigan up into her arms with little effort. She was impressively strong, and the thought of having that turned to her benefit made Morrigan’s skin flush.

“You are quite inviting as well,” Cassandra replied. “It’s only… I’m not entirely sure what to do next.”

Cassandra blushed at her confession but Morrigan merely ran a hand up her cheek, brushing back her sweaty hair. “Inexperience is nothing to be ashamed of. We all must learn at some point, and it will be my pleasure to show you.”

_ In many different ways, I hope . _ As much as she had enjoyed satisfying Cassandra, there was no denying that now her own body required some attention. Fortunately, her lover’s performance in the ruins gave her reason for optimism.

Kissing wasn’t usually her favorite activity, but in this case, it was where she began. One reason was that Cassandra enjoyed it, but it was more than that. With the Seeker, Morrigan found she actually craved its intimacy, and as she slid her tongue along Cassandra’s bottom lip, her body hummed in response. It simply felt  _right_ to be doing this, so natural to drink in the heat of Cassandra’s mouth, to take hold of the back of her head and prolong their embrace.

Only when she had taken her fill did she let Cassandra go, and even then it was only to give her further instruction. “Go lower,” she ordered, “And make sure your mouth makes many stops as you do. Men may be satisfied so long as you see to their cocks, but we women require a more thorough treatment, do we not?”

“I suppose we do,” Cassandra agreed, her voice hitching most enjoyably. Morrigan relished the effect she was clearly having. If she was to be so enraptured with her new lover, it was well that the feeling was mutual. 

She used her hands to keep giving directions, letting Cassandra know where to linger as she made her way down Morrigan’s neck. At least at first. When the Seeker sucked on her pulse point, the mild pleasure of the first kisses turned into something sharper. Her facade of the calm teacher was evaporating, and the pressure of Cassandra’s teeth followed by the soothing touch of her tongue was enough to make Morrigan shiver.

“A natural, I see,” she gasped.

“It just feels right,” Cassandra replied, sounding almost shy but also proud.

“Then by all means continue.” Morrigan was failing to keep the need out of her voice, but she no longer cared. It was a sign of vulnerability, but she trusted Cassandra not to use it against her. 

Cassandra’s callused hands cupped her breasts, the touch making such concerns fade away. The Seeker was becoming more assertive than before, and when her thumbs brushed over the swollen points of Morrigan’s nipples, she made no effort to stifle her moans. This was what she had wanted since that day in the ruins, and she was determined to enjoy every moment of it.

By the time Cassandra's mouth wandered down to her breasts, Morrigan was something of a mess. Her hips rocked urgently, seeking purchase against Cassandra's firm thigh, and her skin was coated with a fine sheen of sweat that had nothing to do with the fire. She had no idea why she was coming undone when Cassandra hadn't even ventured far yet, but the hedonist in her didn't care. She  _ craved  _ the Seeker’s lips and tongue, needed them on every inch of her body, and she wasn't afraid of admitting it.

"Yes," she muttered, cupping the back of Cassandra's head and urging her to capture a plump nipple. "I want your mouth." 'Want' wasn't a strong enough word, but it was the best she could do. She had been dangerously close to saying 'please', and only her pride had prevented it.

Fortunately, she didn't need to beg. Cassandra drew her in, swirling her tongue in circles and applying steady, hot pressure. Morrigan raked her nails through the Seeker's short hair, desperately trying to keep her in place. The warmth was overwhelming, and the tip of her other breast ached against the cool air. It only took a soft squeeze over Cassandra's hand to remind her of its existence. She picked up the motion on her own, and Morrigan sighed with a mixture of relief and desire. Heat blossomed between her legs, and trails of wetness began sliding down her thighs.

Despite her earlier advice about lingering, she pushed gently on top of Cassandra's head. "Lower," she said, the word almost a plea instead of a command.

Cassandra did move lower, but not with her mouth. That stayed right where it was, pulling steadily with the occasional edge of teeth. One of her hands, however, began the short journey down Morrigan's stomach. The touch was light, almost a graze, but it still sent a shiver racing through her body. She gasped, and Cassandra looked up in surprise. "Morrigan?" she asked, brow creased with concern. "Is this all right?"

The worry on Cassandra's face should have annoyed her, but instead, she found it almost endearing. She dragged the Seeker into another kiss, clutching the back of her neck a little too tight. "Do  _ not _ stop," she muttered into Cassandra's mouth, unwilling to break away for more than a moment. She hooked one of her knees around Cassandra's hip and tilted up, hoping her lover would take the hint and explore lower.

To her surprise, Cassandra didn't answer the wordless request. Her fingers teased, tracing back and forth between Morrigan's hips, lighting up a sensitive strip of skin. A shout of frustration and need burned in Morrigan's chest. When it grew too big to hold, she bit Cassandra's lower lip to stifle it, muscles tightening with anticipation. The throbbing between her legs was swiftly becoming unbearable. She needed motion, contact, the stretch of Cassandra's fingers pushing inside her. Lust was nothing new to her, but she hadn't known it was possible to feel so empty.

She couldn't stand waiting a moment longer. While Cassandra re-learned her throat and collarbone, Morrigan reached between their bodies, lacing their fingers together and dragging them down. Cassandra drew in a hitched breath at the contact, and she knew the Seeker had felt her wetness. "That is because of you," she said, trying for a seductive purr and ending up with a mere whisper instead. "I need you to take me..." She hesitated, trembling with indecision until her need won out over her dignity.  " _ Please ." _

Cassandra pulled back, but only to unweave their fingers. They returned a moment later, and Morrigan shuddered as they skimmed over the sensitive bud of her clit. Cassandra had found it without any guidance, and perhaps through a happy accident, she had discovered a delightful stroke as well. Morrigan gave a moan of encouragement, winding her leg tighter and offering more access. "Tell me if I'm doing this right," Cassandra murmured beside her cheek, almost placing a kiss there.

Morrigan's inner walls pulsed, and more heat slid out to ease the movement of Cassandra's fingertips as they glided back and forth. "You could not possibly do it wrong. Just don't stop."

Cassandra didn't. Instead, she sped up, experimenting with circles, and Morrigan couldn't keep her eyes open. Her head lolled back as she lost herself in the sensations. The tip of her clit held most of her attention, but it was Cassandra's warm, solid weight on top of her and the soft breaths against her neck that had weakened Morrigan defenses. She had no idea why she needed this, needed  _Cassandra_ so badly, but she was in no position to question it.

Instead, she simply clung on tighter.  Her fingers dug into the hard muscles along Cassandra’s back, and her leg pressed down harder against the Seeker’s rear. She was unwilling to risk Cassandra pulling away from her. Not now, when her body was screaming out for more of Cassandra’s touches, and especially not when she was so close to the release she craved.

There was just one more thing she wanted, and she spread her legs further in the hopes that Cassandra would realize what it was. Cassandra, however, seemed oblivious to the gesture, continuing to circle the sensitive point of Morrigan’s clit. It felt sublime, but there was still that aching emptiness inside her, and so Morrigan mustered what words she could. “Cassandra.” She knew her voice was little more than a whimper, but as long as it got her what she needed, she no longer cared what she sounded like. “Fuck me.”

A confused look passed over Cassandra’s face. “I thought I was.”

“No.” It was hard to speak with the Seeker’s fingers still resting on her clit, but she did her best. “Inside of me.”

“Oh.” Cassandra blushed.  I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“There is no need,” she gasped. “Just take me. Now.”

There was perhaps an edge in her voice, but at least Cassandra got the message. Her fingers brushed back through Morrigan’s slick folds, but instead of sliding up to her clit, now they trailed down, seeking out her entrance. When two of them pushed into her, Morrigan couldn’t help but scream. She was so wet that the penetration was easy enough, but there was something primal about Cassandra filling her that way, something that she had been craving ever since that day in ruins, and perhaps even longer than that.

At first, Cassandra was slow, sliding her fingers deeper inside carefully, probing but not yet thrusting. It felt good, certainly, but it wasn’t enough. The pressure had built to an overwhelming level, and Morrigan, wanted,  _ needed _ more. Her hips pushed against Cassandra’s hand, and her breath came in sharp gasps. “ _Please_ ,” she said again, the word getting easier with each repetition. “Harder.”

Finally, Cassandra seemed to get the message. Her fingers pushed deeper, and at the same time, her mouth captured Morrigan’s with a fierce energy that matched her own need. Now that Cassandra knew what to do, she was relentless, pumping in and out, driving Morrigan closer to the edge with each stroke. Even though the stimulation was less focused than before, it was somehow even better. Morrigan had been hungry for the feel of Cassandra’s strength unleashed on her, and all she could do now was clutch tightly to her lover and enjoy it.

And then Cassandra curled her fingers. They pressed against Morrigan’s swollen front wall, and any remaining threads of her self-control snapped. Her body thrashed, but Cassandra’s other hand was wrapped around her back and it held her in place, while the other kept pushing against that sensitive spot deep inside of her.

Jolts of pleasure spread to every corner of her being, and she cried out the Seeker’s name over and over again.  Her climax was going on longer than any she could remember, and Cassandra’s hand was a sticky mess, but her dark eyes stayed fixed on Morrigan while she kept thrusting. The reverent look there was enough to inspire fresh pulses to spill out of Morrigan. It was almost more than she could bear, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to make Cassandra stop. It was just too good.

“Maker’s breath,” Cassandra whispered as Morrigan’s body finally went slack. “You look so beautiful doing that.”

She started to slide her fingers out, but Morrigan grabbed her wrist before she could. Even though she was too spent for more at the moment, she wasn’t willing to give up that sense of fullness that she had wanted so badly. “Not yet. Stay inside me.”

Cassandra only nodded, laying back down on top of Morrigan. Her muscular frame was heavy, but the weight was somehow reassuring, a reminder that this was more solid than an ensorcelled dalliance to be ashamed of once the spell had worn off. This was a more durable sort of enchantment, and one that was proving to be far more to Morrigan’s taste.

***

By the time they were completely finished with each other, the night was half done. Though they were curled up by the fire beneath their blankets, neither Cassandra nor her new lover had fallen asleep yet. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so thoroughly sated, but more than that, she was content. It wasn’t a feeling Cassandra was used to, and it made her a bit uncomfortable.

“It is strange,” she said, running a languid hand over the curve of Morrigan’s belly. “To feel so, dare I say it, happy. Look at the sky.” She cocked her head in the direction of the angry, green gash of the Breech. “Corypheus still plots to unmake the world, and yet right now, it scarcely seems important.”

Morrigan nuzzled back against her breasts, her hair tickling the sensitive skin. “‘Tis odd, I agree. But not entirely unexpected.”

“You expected this?”

The surprise in her voice produced a small laugh. “Not for us, no. But… When I travelled with the Warden in the days of the Blight, I had ample opportunity to observe the way that she interacted with Leliana. At the time, I thought their happiness most peculiar, and somewhat inappropriate, especially given what we faced. Now, I think that I understand it somewhat better.”

At the mention of the spymaster’s name, Cassandra remembered something. “You remind me,” she said, bending over to her pack. “I have a gift for you. Or for us, perhaps. Leliana gave it to me.”

"Leliana?" Morrigan asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion as Cassandra pulled out the non-descript wooden box. "It seems she was even more invested in the outcome of our evening together than I thought."

“She might be at that,” Cassandra agreed, handing the box over to Morrigan. “Although in this case, she was only passing along the gift. Originally, it came from Dagna. There was a note as well, although it was somewhat cryptic.”

Morrigan didn’t seem interested in said note, instead simply taking the lid off the box.  The two of them gazed inside, but in the flickering light of the fire, Cassandra wasn’t sure precisely what she was looking at. It was about the length of her hand, made of leather and etched into its surface were a series of lyrium runes she didn’t have the expertise to interpret.  There was something odd about its shape though. Cylindrical, but not quite, thicker near the ends, it almost resembled…

Cassandra’s eyes widened and her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of red. “Maker,” she gasped. “It looks like a…”

“Yes. A phallus.” Morrigan was as non-pulsed as Cassandra was unsettled, reaching into the box and taking the object out. She turned it over in her hands, examining the lyrium runes more closely. “Fascinating. The craftsmanship is quite impressive. I believe the enchantment follows a rather ancient design, perhaps elven, but adapted in some way…”

“I know little of such things,” Cassandra blurted out, her discomfort leaping back to the surface. “I was more concerned as to what its purpose might be.”

“I should think that would be obvious,” Morrigan replied. A bit of her usual condescension crept back into her voice, though Cassandra couldn’t help but find it charming. “‘Tis meant for sex.”

“I had figured out that much,” she said defensively. “I know I am not the most experienced in these matters, but that shape is certainly suggestive enough. I only meant, how does it work?”

Morrigan took a second look at the runes, and while she studied them, Cassandra realized that her heart was beating a little bit faster, excitement mixing in with her embarrassment. This gift was strange and somewhat inappropriate, but it was also intriguing, and couldn’t the same be said of so much of what had transpired between her and Morrigan? 

At last, Morrigan had completed her study and she held up the shaft to Cassandra’s gaze. “I believe that this part,” she said, indicating a short, thick bulb on one end, “Goes inside the wearer, holding it place. And the other is used to pleasure one’s lover.”

“That makes sense.” The heat was rising in her cheeks again, but also lower in Cassandra’s body.  She wasn’t sure who Dagna had intended to wear it, but she was finding the idea of taking Morrigan in such a way was compelling. “I have heard of such devices in some of the more… salacious stories I have read,” she admitted. “But this one is enchanted. For what purpose?”

“The magic helps to hold the device in place, but more importantly, it is designed to transmit sensation. To let the wearer feel as if they were actually performing the acts in question with a part of their own body.”

_ To feel as if I were actually inside of her?  _ Cassandra had never considered such a device before tonight, but now, its appeal was undeniable. The feeling of her fingers sliding into Morrigan had been wonderful, and she couldn’t but be curious what this would be like.

“I think I am spent,” she finally said. “But I  would be… open to trying it at some later time. If you were as well, of course.

“At some later time?” Morrigan raised an eyebrow suggestively. “I take it you are interested in doing this again?”

Cassandra took the toy from Morrigan and set it down into its box, before wrapping her lover in her arms once more and guiding them back down into the warmth of the blankets.  “I am,” she said, running her fingers through the witch’s hair. “Very much so.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter for you. Also, you might be interested to know that the two of us are working on an Omegaverse Legend of Korra story, with lots of Kuvira, and arranged marriages, and all kinds of other goodness. I don't want to give away too much, but it's going to be epic.

_ Morrigan dreamed of flying. _

_ Streams of wind raced under her wings and beneath her belly, but she felt no cold, only elation. Even as a bird, she had never soared so high. A tapestry of green stretched out before her, smooth and unbroken, the tops of the trees blurring together. It all looked the same from this height, but in spite of that, she knew where she was going. There was somewhere she needed to be, and a force beyond her knowledge drew her there. _

_ She circled lower, folding her arms—no, her wings—in and swooping toward the canopy. At last, she caught sight of what she was looking for: a small clearing, a pinprick of brown amidst the emerald ocean of the forest. She dove, cutting the air faster than an arrow from a bow. The trees trembled and parted for her descent, and the ground quaked beneath her as she made her landing. She stood before an abandoned altar, its stone cracked and covered in vines, its mysteries lost to the ages. _

_ A wave of familiarity washed over her as she examined it. This was the place that had called her, and its pull was as ancient and powerful as she felt. Words whispered in her head, speaking in a language she couldn't understand, but something within her knew what they wanted. The Well wanted her to go here. It promised knowledge, power, a chance to defeat Corypheus. _

_ Then, finally, a word she could understand—a name that offered more questions than answers. 'Mythal...' _

She woke with a start, trying to jerk upright, but she couldn't complete the motion. Warm, strong arms held her fast, and she realized that Cassandra had her trapped in a lover's embrace. Although the dream had left her somewhat shaken, she smiled at the pleasant surprise. What they had shared last night felt a little dreamlike as well with the rising of the sun, but she remembered every moment.

When Cassandra stirred beside her, Morrigan sighed and cuddled back against her chest. The vision she had been granted, for surely it was a vision from the Well of Sorrows, could wait for at least a few minutes. It wasn't as if she could travel to the Arbor Wilds immediately in search of the altar...

"Morrigan?" Cassandra's soft brown eyes had opened, and they were staring at her with a mixture of worry and sleepy affection. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," Morrigan said, staring at Cassandra's face until she realized a somewhat more romantic answer was necessary. Instead of searching for one, she cupped Cassandra's cheek and leaned in for a good morning kiss, hoping her bluntness would be forgiven. When Cassandra's lips parted beneath hers and a possessive arm looped around her waist, she knew she had succeeded. The kiss lingered for a long time, until Cassandra had fully awoken and Morrigan had nearly forgotten her dream altogether.

"This is... unusual... for me," Cassandra panted when they pulled apart. "But I must admit, I am glad to wake in your company." She blinked at the rays of sunlight breaching the horizon, and a furrow formed in the middle of her brow. "Although I did not intend for us to spend the night out here on the ground."

"'Tis no matter." Morrigan rested her cheek on Cassandra's shoulder, and it was so comfortable that her eyes almost drifted shut again. "I have spent my share of nights asleep on the ground, although none were nearly so pleasant."

She felt rather than saw Cassandra's smile. "Pleasant?" she repeated, with so much innocent hope in her voice that Morrigan would have been repulsed if it were coming from anyone else. Since it was Cassandra, however, she remained where she was. The Seeker still grated on her nerves, but in an increasingly endearing way.

"If you are asking whether I enjoyed your company last night, the answer should be obvious. I would not have stayed if you were unsatisfactory."

It was as close to a compliment as she was willing to give this early in the morning, but it seemed to mollify Cassandra. The Seeker relaxed, and Morrigan let her mind wander. The thoughts in her head were all tangled. One moment, she remembered Cassandra's fingers pushing inside her, filling her deep and drawing out shudders of pleasure. The next, she was hurtling over the forest again, trying to understand what the Well wanted of her.

"How long do you think it would take the Inquisitor and I to travel back to the Arbor Wilds with a small group of our companions?" she asked.

Cassandra blinked in confusion. "The Arbor Wilds? What are you talking about, Morrigan?"

Morrigan did not hesitate. If she had any say in the matter, Cassandra would be coming with them anyway. "The Well granted me a vision while I slept. I am to go to the Altar of Mythal and receive knowledge that will help us defeat Corypheus. Perhaps spending the night beneath the stars proved more helpful than you or I could have imagined."

***

Morrigan sighed in annoyance, picking her way free from the cluster of thin branches catching at her cloak. The foliage was just as hindersome as the last time she had visited the Arbor Wilds, though at least there was no army of Red Templars to further spoil her mood. Unfortunately, Vivienne's presence in their party more than cancelled out that small blessing. As their band walked down the overgrown path that led toward the Altar of Mythal, her predecessor seemed determined to demonstrate her particular brand of charm.

"My dear, do you really think that outfit is an appropriate choice for this particular excursion?" Vivienne asked, her smooth tone a complete contrast to her stern words. "I have come to expect  _ interesting _ fashion choices from some of our other companions..." She fixed Sera with a disapproving glance while the elf picked at something inside her ear. "But surely you own something more suitable?"

Morrigan didn't want to converse with Vivienne, but while they were traipsing in the wilderness, she supposed she had little choice. It was only slightly more irritating than talking to Sera anyway. "More suitable for whom? The gnats and mosquitos? Perhaps if we are lucky, a bear will wander across our path and admire your footwear."

Vivienne was less than impressed. "Sarcasm doesn't become you, I'm afraid." Her gaze slid over to Cassandra, who was walking a few paces in front of them, and Morrigan bristled instinctively. The way the First Enchanter was staring at her lover made her uneasy. "I merely wonder why you chose to display so much flesh in the middle of a forest. As you said, the gnats and mosquitos are an issue. You'll notice my dress draws the eye where I want it while covering a great deal more."

The comment, coupled with the knowing look on Vivienne's face, set Morrigan even further on edge. "I had no patience for your Grand Game when I was in Orlais, Vivienne, and I've even less for it now. If there is something you wish to say to me, by all means, say it plainly."

That got the rest of the group's attention. Sera stopped skipping and turned, watching them with a wide grin. Herah did as well, although her expression was nervous instead of eager. Even Cassandra slowed her pace, allowing the rest of the group to catch up. Morrigan appreciated the way the Seeker hovered almost protectively by her side, as if to defend her honor.  _ Foolish and unnecessary, but a sweet gesture nonetheless. _

"Very well," Vivienne said. "I can appreciate directness when appropriate. Since you asked for my opinion..."

"She didn't, did she?" Sera piped up, mouth pulled to one side to make an uneven line and emphasize her dimpled cheek. "But you couldn't resist spitting it out anyway, yeah?"

Vivienne raised her eyes to the heavens, as if asking the Maker for patience, and for once, Morrigan was glad they had brought Sera along. Seeing the First Enchanter so wonderfully annoyed was worth whatever irritation it cost Morrigan. "As I was saying, since you asked for my opinion, I think your budding relationship with the esteemed Seeker Pentaghast is ill-advised on both your parts."

Morrigan had suspected from the start Vivienne's problem wasn't with her clothes, but hearing the words aloud made her angrier than she anticipated. "Truly? And what makes you think we are in a relationship?" She could not bring herself to outright deny her connection with Cassandra, but she was  _ very _ interested to find out how the news had reached Vivienne. Once they got back to Skyhold, someone would be waking up with spiders in their bed—and for once, Sera wouldn't be to blame.

Vivienne laughed. "My dear, the entire Inquisition knows. I didn't even need to listen to the local gossip. The Seeker’s interest in you isn't exactly subtle."

Cassandra fell into a coughing fit, eyes popping out as her face went beet red. She pounded on the front of her chestplate, trying to get ahold of herself, but Morrigan could tell she was mortified. A strange protectiveness rose within her, and she aimed a sharp glare in Vivienne's direction. She was prepared to come to Cassandra's defense, but to her complete surprise, Sera beat her to it.

"Sod off,  _ Vivvy _ . Not everyone pairs up for gold or fancy titles like the stuffed shirts in Orlais. If they care about each other now instead of sniping like your lot, that's a good thing all 'round. Morrigan and Cassandra are happy and shite, and that's all there is to it. No one bloody cares about your opinion."

Morrigan struggled to conceal her shock. Not only had Sera taken her side, and rather eloquently, despite the littering of profanity, she had used both of their names. Hearing Sera call her 'Morrigan' instead of 'spooky' or 'witch' was a refreshing change.

Even more unusual was Vivienne's response. Instead of lashing out at Sera, the First Enchanter's expression became almost sad. "Now, that is a surprise," she said in a softer vice. "I assumed their relationship was merely physical."

Morrigan didn't need to confirm or deny the assertion. Sera took off once again, still indignant on their behalf. "Pfft, now that's right stupid. Can you _really_ picture _Cassandra_ fucking around?" The Seeker’s coughing fit, which had finally ended, resumed almost immediately. "And just because Morrigan shows more of her tits than most doesn't mean she's sleeping her way through Skyhold either. They're sweet on each other, so good on them, and the last thing they need is you spewing your poison."

For what Morrigan assumed was the first time in her life, Vivienne didn’t have an immediate retort at hand. Instead, she stopped walking and nodded her head up and down as she considered Sera’s words. “I was asked for my honesty, and so I gave it,” she told the elf, “But do not presume you know the limits of my understanding when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“Didn’t know you had one one of those,” Sera snorted.

“There is a great deal you do not know,” Vivienne informed her, having found her acid tongue once more. “About me, and a great many other things. But in this case, you may have a point. If they are sincere in their feelings, than I offer Cassandra and Morrigan my best wishes.”

Sera seemed to decide to take that as enough of an apology. Rather than continue the argument, she joined Herah’s side to share some sentiment that Morrigan neither heard nor cared to.

Instead, she looked over to Cassandra. The Seeker had regained her composure, and Morrigan told her, “My apologies for that. I did not mean to involve you in my dispute with that woman.”

“It is… all right. I suppose the opinions of others are something we’ll have to get used to if this relationship is to continue.”

_ A relationship? I suppose that’s what it is. _ It was a thought that Morrigan didn’t mind. Indeed, her only response was to say, “I suppose we will, at that,” and when Cassandra gave her a smile, she was happy enough to return the gesture.

***

It was clear that the Altar of Mythal had once been a place of tremendous grandeur.  Huge statues of the goddess stood on its sides, and an even larger one of a dragon loomed above the broken stone pedestal. The carvings were not as ornate as some Morrigan had seen, but there was a potency to them, and in spite of its fallen state, overgrown with vines and grass, the place still retained the power to inspire.

Morrigan sighed as she climbed the stairs. “‘Tis all that remains of the great altar.” She looked down, brushing aside the dust that covered its face. Words were carved there, in the same ancient form of elvish they had encountered at the temple, and she read them aloud. It was a task that no longer required any effort on her part.

“We few who travel far, call to me and I will come. Without mercy. Without fear.”

Herah frowned at that. “Without mercy? That sounds rather ominous.”

Morrigan gave her a wry smile. “Indeed it does. Now, your companions will need to go elsewhere before we can begin the ritual.”  

That prospect didn’t make Sera very happy. Her forehead crinkled, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously.  “And leave Inky alone with all this elf-ie crap? Sounds like a bloody rotten plan to me.”

“I will admit, it makes me uneasy as well,” Cassandra agreed. “We don’t know quite what this ritual of yours will summon. I would prefer to remain here.”

_ How kind of you to worry.  _ “Not to worry,” Morrigan said, not unkindly. “If there is shouting, you will hear it readily enough.”

“Fine.” Sera gave an unhappy snort. “But if I see anything go wrong, arrows in the fuckin’ eye all ‘round.”

Cassandra’s nod of assent was more dignified, and the three other women walked back up the path, leaving Morrigan alone with the Inquisitor. Once they had their privacy, she raised up her hand, summoning the green glow of her magic and reciting the words the voices had taught her. “You know who I am,” she intoned, losing herself in the liquid tones of the spell, “From high priest to high priest, I am the last to drink of sorrows. Come to us, Mythal. Whoever you are, whatever you are, I invoke your name and your power.”

For a moment, the only response was a gleam of sunlight, but then smoke began to form in the middle of the courtyard. The whispers of the well grew, a chorus of voices swelling in anticipation. At first, all she could tell was that the figure seemed humanoid. Gradually, it became clear that the shape was female. And then, as she smoke dispersed, she could see that it was...

“Mother.” Shock and rage mixed in her voice. Of all the possibilities she had considered, this had to be the least appealing.

Herah turned towards her, almost as surprised as Morrigan was, though for very different reasons. “Mother?”

Flemeth placed a hand on her hip, her face bearing that same insufferable smile Morrigan had seen a thousand times growing up. “Now, isn’t this a surprise?”

“I take it you know her,” Herah said, seeming to take some amusement in the situation.

Morrigan began to panic. The only reason Herah wasn’t afraid was because she had no idea how dangerous Flemeth was. “She is a deceiving witch!” she yelled, not caring how frantic she sounded. She raised her arms, wrapping her powers around her.

She never got the chance to choose between attacking or shielding herself. Flemeth lifted up her hand, surrounded by a blue glow, and Morrigan felt her magic  _ stop. _ Something stood in-between her mind and her ability to make its wishes real. A strong will, strange and yet all too familiar, blocked her path, and she had no power to resist.

“Now, now. That is quite enough of that,” Flemeth said disdainfully.  

Morrigan’s mouth moved, but the sound was delayed, heavy with the weight of her fear and sorrow. “What… what have you done to me?”

Flemeth sounded insulted by her question. “ _ I _ have done nothing.  _ You _ drank from the Well of your own volition.”

“Then… you are Mythal?” Morrigan stammered. She knew she must sound like the idiot child she tried so hard not to be around her mother, but there was no helping it. 

The Inquisitor fell to one knee in a gesture of respect. “Thank you for coming. I had no idea what to expect.”

“You see, girl?” Flemeth spoke as if she was very simple while favoring Herah with an indulgent smile. “ _ Those _ are manners, as it seems you require a demonstration.”

Morrigan didn’t bother answering the jab. She had bigger problems to deal with. That her mother was something strange and arcane came as no surprise, but a goddess?  _ What does ‘goddess’ even mean? I’m her daughter. What does this make me? _ “I do not understand. How can you be Mythal?”

Flemeth took a deep breath, a wistful look filling her timeless yellow eyes. “Once, I was but a woman, crying out in the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being, and she granted me all I wanted and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her.”

“Then you have Mythal inside of you?” Herah asked, sounding nearly as confused as Morrigan felt.

“She is a part of me, no more separate than your heart from your chest.” Flemeth turned back to her. “You hear the voices of the Well, girl. What do they say?”

Morrigan closed her eyes and searched within herself. She wanted to hear a denial, but only awed whispers answered her call.  _ Mythal… Goddess… Queen… We are truly blessed.  _ “They… say you speak the truth.”

“But what was Mythal? A legend given name and called a god? Or something more? Truth is not the end, but a beginning.” Flemeth walked up the stairs, stopping in front of Herah. Though she was shorter than the qunari, she filled the space none the less. Her eyes ran over the Inquisitor, seeming to drink in every inch of her. “A herald, indeed,” she finally declared. “Shouting to the heavens, harbinger of a new age. As for me, I have had many names, but you... may call me Flemeth.”

Herah’s big eyes were wide as she tried to sort through the chain of events that had lead them to this point. “This meeting was no accident, was it?”

Flemeth nodded. “Clever girl.”

Morrigan’s mind struggled to catch up. “The voices… they came from you?”

“The price of the Well seemed no dire thing when you saw so much gain, hmm? The voices did not lie, Morrigan. I can help you fight Corypheus.” Flemeth extended her hand towards her, and in spite of Morrigan’s unease, she couldn’t turn away. Flemeth’s, or perhaps she should call her Mythal’s, mind linked with her own. Together, they dived into the sea of memories and knowledge that filled Morrigan’s mind. She had no power to control the journey, but what she saw was truly remarkable.

_ A twist of magic, the key to a door within herself, giving birth to scales and flame, her dream made real... _

“Do you understand, child?”

Morrigan felt wain from the experience, only managing to stammer, “Yes, I… think I do.”  

Flemeth turned and walked back down the way she had come, but before she could vanish entirely, Morrigan held up a hand and yelled, “Wait!”

Her words halted Flemeth, who pivoted back toward her. She seemed to know Morrigan’s question even before she asked it. “I wished to see who drank from the Well of Sorrows. It has been a  _ very _ long time since anyone did that.” She chuckled. “Imagine my surprise to discover it was you.”

“And that is all?” Morrigan asked. “What of us?”  _ Do you still plan to take my body, now that you have me in your power? _

“A soul is not forced upon the unwilling, Morrigan. You were never in danger from me.”

Flemeth did not wait for a further response from her. She turned, more imperious than any queen, and the smoke gathered around her once more. Even after she had vanished, however, her presence lingered. Morrigan could still  _ feel _ her power, lingering in the voices of the Well inside her. It had been waiting there all along, a trap she had stupidly blundered into.

“All things considered, Inquisitor,” she said blankly, “I now wish  _ you _ had drunk from the Well.”

That remark earned her a shake of Herah’s massive head. “I can see why. Are you all right?”

She was most certainly not. Even in a world filled with bad ends, being bound to her mother was one of the more terrifying fates she could imagine in. But she was not willing to admit her fear, and so she merely answered, “What she said is true, at least. I have the answer to your problem. I can match the Archdemon’s power when the time comes. All that remains is for you to find Corypheus.”

_ And what remains for me now? I wish that I knew. _


	21. Chapter 21

Cassandra raised her eyes from her steaming bowl of stew, studying Morrigan's face. Her lover's expression was far more somber than usual, unhappy enough to tear her attention away from dinner despite her hunger. It had been a little over a day since their visit to the altar, but whatever had happened there still hovered over Morrigan like a shadow. They had not discussed it, but it didn't take a perceptive person to sense the gloom.

For what felt like the hundredth time, she tried to find the words to ask what was wrong. Although she was often concerned for her friends, and especially for Morrigan in recent months, Cassandra knew she wasn't the best at showing it. Her attempts at offering comfort often backfired, coming out cold and stilted when that was the exact opposite of her intentions. Even though her instincts told her to try and help, she was worried her awkwardness would only make things worse. Instead, she remained silent, hoping Morrigan would notice her gaze and start the conversation first.

She got her wish, although Morrigan's overtures weren't particularly friendly. "Would you care to tell me why you are staring a hole through my head, Seeker Pentaghast? Or am I simply too irresistible for you to draw your eyes away from?"

It was the angriest, most annoyed attempt at flirtation Cassandra had ever witnessed, and she suddenly felt better about her own social abilities. _Morrigan is even worse at this than I am. 'Seeker Pentaghast' indeed. This tension needs to be discussed before she forgets my first name entirely._

"I am concerned," she said, deciding the honest, blunt approach would be best. "You have been distant ever since we left the altar, and neither you nor the Inquisitor have made any attempts to explain what happened there."

Morrigan's eyes softened, but only for a moment. Her lips pursed into a thin line, and a wrinkle marred her forehead. "Your concern is appreciated, but I do not wish to give an explanation." Her gaze slid sideways, to where Sera was slurping from her bowl while Vivienne looked on with disgust. The rest of the sentence was implied: _at least not here._

Cassandra nodded, pretending to accept the explanation. She set her own bowl aside and stood, feigning interest in the fire pit they had dug. "Then perhaps I should find more kindling. There isn't enough here to last the night."

"At least finish your dinner first, my dear," Vivienne said. Her voice could have fooled most people into thinking she was genuinely concerned, but Cassandra suspected she merely did not want to be left alone in Sera's company.

"Thank you, but I am not hungry," Cassandra said, giving Vivienne a polite nod.

Sera perked up. "Not hungry? C'n I have..."

"Here," Cassandra sighed, passing over her bowl. Sera dug in immediately, and Vivienne's scowl deepened. While the two of them were occupied, Cassandra caught Morrigan's eye and slipped off, leaving the camp behind and wandering a little further into the forest.

She was not alone for long. Morrigan moved through the trees to join her only a few minutes later, and Cassandra smiled upon seeing her. It was then that she realized that she still didn't know how to begin this conversation—or if Morrigan even wanted to have it with her. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to," she said, looking down at her feet. For some reason, the darkness in Morrigan's eyes made her slightly uncomfortable. It was brooding and secretive, not the kind of expression she was used to seeing on someone who was supposed to be her lover. "We really could use more wood..."

"There is much to talk about, but I will be brief," Morrigan said. "'Tis a most unpleasant subject."

Cassandra nodded. “I understand.”

“No. You do not.” To her surprise, the tone of Morrigan’s words was not unkind, but rather flat. Her usual fire had been replaced with a deep sense of resignation. “You know that we went to the altar in the hopes of meeting Mythal. And we did. But… she was not what I expected.”

Cassandra’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So what was she? Some elven god? A demon?”

Morrigan shook her head. “Perhaps. I still do not comprehend much of this. But what I do know is that Mythal is also my mother.”

“Your mother?” Cassandra felt the rare urge to laugh. She realized that she knew nothing of Morrigan’s family. Indeed, it was strange to consider her having one at all, but that didn’t mean that some ancient elven entity was what she would have expected. And yet, Morrigan’s face warned her against giving in to her momentary amusement. The witch had gone even paler than usual, and in her eyes, Cassandra saw something she wasn’t sure had ever been there before: fear.

“You are right,” she admitted, “I don’t understand what that means. But I want to.”

Morrigan shook her head, averting her eyes. “There is no need. This was my mistake. And now I am the only one who should have to deal with the consequences.”

“You do not have to be.” Cassandra stepped closer to Morrigan, reaching out hesitantly. She wasn’t sure if her embrace would be welcome, but to her relief, Morrigan permitted it. “I don’t always know what I am doing when it comes to personal matter, but people who…” She paused. What were she and Morrigan to each other? Lovers, clearly. Beyond that, she still didn’t know. They had made no pledges. And yet, Cassandra knew that her heart ached at the clear pain in Morrigan’s face and so she continued. “...who care for each other as I think we do… they try to help each other. I want to help you.”

Morrigan drew closer, and to Cassandra’s surprise, a soft cheek rested against her shoulder in search of comfort. “I… appreciate that. Truly. But I am not sure there is anything you can do. I drank from the Well of Sorrows of my own will, and in doing so, I bound myself to my mother. After spending the better part of my life trying to be free of her, I have given her some terrible hold over me instead.”

“But she is your mother,” Cassandra said tentatively. “It seems clear that your relationship is poor, but surely she would not…”

“I have no idea what she will do,” Morrigan cut in, obviously upset. “I do not even know what she is, let alone what she is capable of. All I can say for certain is that I am powerless against her. She can simply block my magic. She can reach into my mind…”

“Morrigan…” Cassandra clutched Morrigan closer to her, unable to think of anything to say besides her lover’s name. It was true. She had no idea what to do about any of this. As a Seeker of Truth, she thought that she understood what magic was and what it could do, but ever since joining the Inquisition, she had realized that she knew nothing. The Breech, the Anchor, Corypheus, and now this Mythal and the Well of Sorrows; all of them were far beyond her training. She was walking through waters far over her head, and now they threatened to swallow up a woman who had come to mean a great deal to her.

She remained still for a long time, holding Morrigan loosely in her arms and allowing the witch's forehead to rest beneath her chin. Several times she tried to speak, to find the words a lover should say, but they didn't come easily, and she wasn't convinced that Morrigan wanted them. In the end, she settled for silent support. Perhaps Morrigan would prefer that kind of comfort anyway over false promises and meddlesome questions.

In the end, it was Morrigan who spoke first. "Thank you, Cassandra," she said, her voice much softer than usual. "There was no reason for you to do this, but I am glad you wish to try and reassure me."

Cassandra pulled back, looking into Morrigan's eyes. "I care for you. Is that not reason enough?"

To her surprise, Morrigan smiled. "Even if you had not told me of your inexperience before now, I would have guessed. Sharing someone's bed does not always mean you wish to share their burdens. This is a... surprisingly welcome development."

Cassandra returned the smile with a hesitant one of her own. Perhaps she hadn't made such a mess of things after all. "I would want to help you even if we weren't lovers," she said. "You have become an important part of the Inquisition, as well as my friend. If your mother, or Mythal, or whatever she calls herself tries to harm you..." Honestly, she had no idea how to go about fighting an elven deity, but she supposed she would do her best to find out.

"She calls herself Flemeth," Morrigan said.

"Flemeth?" Cassandra's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You mean in addition to being Mythal, your mother is _also_ the Witch of the Wilds? I thought she was only a Ferelden story..." She sighed, shaking her head. _I should know better after all the things we have encountered._

"Yet another reason the two of us fail to get along," Morrigan said. "I used to believe she used her many daughters to extend her life, but now, I have no guess as to what designs she has on me after I have fulfilled my purpose."

"Your purpose?" Cassandra asked in alarm. "What purpose?"

Morrigan's face hardened. "To help the Inquisitor defeat Corypheus. Flemeth would see him destroyed, and so for the moment, our goals align. She has given me the power to match his dragon, and though she frightens me, I would be a fool not to use it."

* * *

Morrigan gazed into the rippling surface of the eluvian, watching the shapes inside shift and change. It had been a day since their party had returned to Skyhold, but she was still restless and uncertain. Once, the mirror would have brought her some measure of comfort, but now it was only a reminder of all her uncertainties.

She had been so sure that the Well would provide her with everything she wanted: incredible power and the answers to many of her questions. Her desire for knowledge was fierce, but for the first time in her life, Morrigan was beginning to realize that there were some things she did not want to understand, or even think about. The voices in her head had been whispering louder since her encounter with Flemeth, and they were beginning to frighten her.

_Even though I should want to know what my mother is and what use she wishes to make of me... I don't. I just want to be alone._

But being alone felt as if it were no longer an option. Once, long ago, when the burden of dealing with her mother became too much, Morrigan would disappear into the wilderness for weeks at time, finding peace in the solitude. Now, though… Now, she had taken on obligations, one after another. To the Grey Warden, to Empress Celene, to the Inquisition, and finally to her wretched mother. It was a horrid and agitating to be so trapped, and her mind rebelled against the condition.

_Why can I not disappear as I used to? As a raven, I could be long gone from this place before any thought to look for me. I could leave all of this behind, return to the Korcari Wilds, and never hear the sound of another person’s voice until I wished it._

But that thought was pure fantasy. Morrigan was no child anymore, and having become entangled in the web of the world, she had to accept that she would never be entirely free of it. Ever since she was befriended by that insufferably righteous Grey Warden, her old life had slipped beyond her grasp for good. There was a world threatened by Corypheus’s machinations, and ties to those who opposed them that she could not so easily shake, no matter how far or fast she ran.

_What is left for me then, if I cannot be as I was?_

The answer came to her suddenly. _I can decide what my ties shall be. If my old solitude has been taken from me, I must make the best of the life I am now trapped in._

Once Morrigan realized that, the rest was obvious. There were a bare handful of people whose company she found tolerable, but one who stood out among the rest. She and Cassandra might have been thrown together by a truly bizarre series of events, but Morrigan realized that she actually _wanted_ to have the Seeker be a part of her life. Their night beneath the stars was a memory she would always cherish. The pleasure, of course, had been wonderful, but it was more than that. With anyone else, she would have found the exchange of affection mawkish, but somehow, the idea of being bound to someone else was not so terrible as long as it was Cassandra.

She turned away from the glowing surface of the eluvian. Her heartbeat sped up as she walked the halls of Skyhold. The idea of confessing her _feelings_ to Cassandra, not just an attraction, but something more profound and genuine, scared her. Still, it didn’t scare her enough to stop. Whatever fears this plan summoned, they were far less than the nauseating, clawing sensation of her mother’s power gripping at her soul. She had felt that presence in the back of her mind ever since she drank from the Well, but once it had seemed to promise the knowledge and power that she’d wanted. Now that she knew what it meant, she hated every second of the feeling, and there was only one person she trusted enough to help her blot it out.

 _You did offer me your help,_ she thought as she walked the familiar path to the training grounds. _I can only hope you truly meant it._

* * *

Cassandra grunted as her blade collided with the training dummy, leaning into the strike with all her strength. She knew the drills were meant to enhance form and precision, but this afternoon, she had a little extra frustration to work out. Morrigan had barely spoken a word to her or anyone else in days, and she was starting to worry.

At first, she had accepted Morrigan's silence. It made sense, from what little had been revealed to her. More telling still, Morrigan had not turned away her small, silent gestures of support—laced fingers here and there when no one was looking, passing over a little extra food at mealtimes. But several days had gone by, enough for them to reach Skyhold again, and her subtle actions had done nothing to fix the problem. She had no idea what else to do.

 _I need to talk to her..._ Swing. Thud. _But what could I possibly say?_ Breathe. Lift. _When it comes to words, I'm no better than a dim-witted child..._ Swing. Thud. _Perhaps Leliana should speak to her instead._ Breathe. Lift. _At least she can express herself._

But the thought of Leliana comforting Morrigan made her chest ache in a curious way. She wanted to help Morrigan herself, to find some way of understanding, to offer support with more than just an embrace. She sighed and lowered her sword. _Maker, I am worse at sorting through my feelings than Varric's Guard-Captain. If I didn't know better, I would suspect him of using me for inspiration in his writing._

"Cassandra?"

The sound of her name startled her before she could chastise herself any further. She turned in surprise, and her face softened when she saw Morrigan standing behind her. The expression on her face was curious, a mixture of several emotions, and Cassandra couldn't quite tell whether it was happy or fearful. Fear had been Morrigan's constant companion since their departure from the Arbor Wilds, and Cassandra had grown used to seeing its shadow on her. _Perhaps it is both. She might be happy to see me, and fearful of everything else._

"Morrigan," she said, offering a smile, "I am glad you—"

"Hush," Morrigan said, fingertips pressing urgently into her arm. She could feel them even through her hauberk. "Come with me. 'Tis time we spoke."

Something in her voice compelled Cassandra to obey. "Of course, if you wish." She set down her sword, allowing Morrigan to lead her across the training grounds and past the tavern. Despite the dark cloud hanging over the witch's head, she decided to take the invitation as a sign of progress. If Morrigan wanted to talk to her, perhaps it was a good sign. _That, or she wishes to tell me that this... thing between us was a mistake._

Cassandra's heart sank at the very thought. Her armor seemed to grow heavier with each step, and she suddenly felt as if she was walking toward her own execution. In her panic, all she could think to do was stall. "Are you sure you wish to talk inside? It's such a lovely afternoon..."

But Morrigan would not be swayed. The tug on her arm grew insistent, and Cassandra could only stumble along, becoming more frantic by the moment. By the time they were inside the castle, she was so nervous that she didn’t register where Morrigan was leading them. She staggered through the hallways in a daze, only regaining a little of her composure when they came to a stop outside of a wooden door. “Where are we?”

Morrigan smiled, but it was thin one. It was clear the witch was as nervous as she was. “‘Tis my room, of course. Where else should we go to talk?”

“No, here would be reasonable,” Cassandra said, though too quickly.

The two of them stepped inside. Cassandra had never seen Morrigan’s quarters before, but they were much as she would have expected. Only a simple bed and one dresser with a handful of personal items on top enlivened the bare, stone room.

“It is quite clean,” was the only thing that came to mind, but Morrigan didn’t seem to notice her idiotic remark, so lost was she in her anxiety.

“I… have been thinking further,” the witch began, “since we spoke in the forest. About what has happened with my mother, and what it might mean. It may have... changed things between us.”

Cassandra’s heart skipped a beat. Her relationship with Morrigan had been growing more important to her, but it wasn’t until she thought she might lose it that she realized just how much. “Changed them? In what way?”

“It is difficult for me to explain what I mean.” Morrigan crossed her arms defensively, and her face tightened. “I am no better at these matters than you are, I fear.”

“Just tell me,” Cassandra blurted out. She feared that she might faint if she didn’t get an answer soon. As terrible as losing Morrigan would be, she had to at least know where she stood. “It does not need to be said well.”

“Very well. I…” Morrigan shook her head. Every word seemed as if it had to be forced out of her lips, but she continued. “I need you, Cassandra. To be… yours. I can no longer pretend that I can escape my ties to others, and if I am to be bound to someone, I would much prefer that it was you.”

 _She needs me?_ The words crashed through her head, and she nearly swayed as she struggled to interpret them. As clear as they had been, she still had trouble believing. _She wants to be mine. To be bound to me. Does she truly mean that?_ “I… I do not know what to say,” Cassandra stammered. Her confusion was giving way to relief, and it saturated her so thoroughly that she struggled for words even more than usual. “I had thought… I had feared that you meant to end things between us?”

“T’was not my intention at all,” Morrigan declared. She sounded more confident, and her pose was relaxing. The line of her shoulders practically melted. “But I am pleased that you did not wish that. I should have looked quite the fool confessing my feelings otherwise.”

“Not at all,” Cassandra insisted. Quite to the contrary, she found herself thrilling to Morrigan’s words. They made her pulse speed back up, but it was excitement and not fear that filled her now.

“Excellent.” Morrigan stepped closer to her, eyes flaring bright, fingertips trailing along her arm in open invitation.  “Now, must I beg, or are you going to take me now? Surely those dreadful novels you read have given you some idea of what comes next.”

Cassandra didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arm around Morrigan’s waist, bringing their mouths together in a deep kiss.


	22. Chapter 22

Kissing Cassandra felt like coming home. Although they had not been lovers long, the warmth of her mouth and the slanting pressure of her lips were already familiar. There was hunger, and tenderness, desire and affection, and all those feelings made Morrigan sag with relief.  _ She feels the same. Even if she hadn't told me so, I would know it from her hands.  _ Those hands were currently settled around her waist, dipping beneath the hem of her shirt to find bare skin.

"Too long," Cassandra muttered as they broke apart. "We've waited too long to do this again."

Morrigan couldn't have agreed more, but she didn't waste her breath on words. There was still the problem of Cassandra's armor, and from the looks of it, removing all the pieces would take some doing.  _ Better to get started immediately. I want her naked. Naked and over me. _ She traced her fingers along the grooves, searching for fastenings, and when Cassandra realized what she was trying to accomplish, the Seeker hurried to help.

Her gloves came off first, followed swiftly by her breastplate and pauldrons. Both of their fingers fumbled with the straps and buckles in their eagerness, but somehow, they managed. It was completely different than the first time she had stripped Cassandra of her armor, and infinitely better as well. She had time to admire the curves and planes of Cassandra's body beneath all the padding as she exposed them, to savor running her fingers along every contour and even trade more kisses with every piece that disappeared.

Soon, the upper half of Cassandra's body was mostly exposed. She wore only a soft shirt beneath her mail, and as she peeled it over her head, Morrigan's eyes locked on the firm muscles of her abdomen. Tension was already coiled there, and she ran her fingers over them, hoping it was because of her. 

Cassandra gasped at her light touch, and a shiver raced through her body. She took a step back, preparing to remove her greaves and boots as well, but Morrigan wasn't ready to let her go. She wound her arms around Cassandra's neck instead, drawing her in for another kiss. This one held more fire, and Morrigan found herself groaning into it. Cassandra's tongue was bolder than it had been since their time in the ruins, demanding entrance to her mouth and pressing smoothly past her lips as soon as they parted. The hands roaming along her sides grew more insistent as well, finding the laces on the back of her shirt without looking and untying the knots with more urgency than Morrigan had expected.

Soon, her shirt fluttered to the floor to join Cassandra’s discarded armor, leaving her breasts bare. Cassandra's hands cupped them eagerly, and Morrigan gasped as her nipples hardened, scraping against the Seeker's rough palms. Even though Cassandra wasn't paying direct attention to them, her touch was enough to make heat blossom between her legs. "Wait," she muttered between kisses, letting their noses brush. "I wish to feel you, too."

Cassandra made a noise of reluctance, but released her after one more squeeze. Morrigan mourned the loss, but it did give her the opportunity to start on Cassandra's breast bindings. They unraveled swiftly, and soon, she had all the access she wanted. Her hands ran over the skin she had just revealed, her thumbs circling the stiff points of Cassandra’s nipples. The touch drew a low, hungry growl from the Seeker, and Morrigan thrilled at it.

_ She is mine too. These sounds are mine. All of them. _

Her lips caught Cassandra’s once more so that she could drink in her lover’s pleasure, could taste every moan that her hands produced. One of them stayed with the Seeker’s breasts while the other wrapped around her body, caressing the powerful muscles of her back. She could feel the strain there, the eagerness, and her heart sang at the knowledge that she was its cause.

Cassandra replied to her efforts in kind. Her fingers wandered the expanse of Morrigan’s bare skin, and everywhere they touched, little fires were lit. This was what Morrigan had craved when she came to Cassandra. She needed to feel something more potent than the whispers in her mind, and to lose herself utterly in it.

Her knees began to wobble as Cassandra’s tongue ran along her neck, teasing the soft skin, but the Seeker’s strong hands controlled her fall. She was lowered onto her bed, and Cassandra only paused for a moment to remove her greaves and boots before following after her. Her weight settled in on top of Morrigan, solid and strong, while her mouth kept trailing downwards.  It nipped at her lower lip before moving on to the explore first the line of her collarbone and then the secret place between her breasts. 

Morrigan didn’t know how patient she could bear to be, but it wasn’t long before Cassandra moved on. She whimpered as the first of her nipples was pulled between the Seeker’s lips, arching her back in a desperate effort to increase the contact. Cassandra began to suck on the swollen point, even while her palm cupped the other breast, roughly kneading the soft flesh there. The pleasure was enough to make Morrigan’s hands fist in the sheets to steady herself while her hips bucked greedily, pushing up against Cassandra’s hard stomach.

“Please.” The word came more easily to Morrigan now that she knew Cassandra returned her feelings. “Please, I need more.”

Cassandra looked up at her, and the hunger in her dark eyes had abated for a moment, replaced with warmth. “Of course.” Cassandra pressed another swift kiss on the straining, wet tip of her nipple. “Whatever you require.”

There were so many things she needed that Morrigan could scarcely name them all, but the brush of Cassandra's lips pulled one choice to the forefront of her mind. Suddenly, all she could think about was feeling them wrapped around her clit. She  _ needed _ the pressure, the heat, the same swirls Cassandra's tongue had made against the tip of her breast. "Your mouth," she pleaded, sinking her fingers into the Seeker's strong shoulder. "I need your mouth."

Cassandra's dark eyes burned, and she made a swift descent, trailing kisses straight down the middle of Morrigan’s stomach. Morrigan's pelvis rocked in response before Cassandra had even reached her destination. Her inner walls pulsed at the mere promise of what was to come, and her body released a swell of warmth in anticipation as Cassandra's teeth nipped a sensitive patch of flesh just beside her navel.  _ She has become a tease. Who would have expected it? _

But Morrigan found herself smiling at the slight delay, no matter how impatient it left her. The ache between her legs doubled at the thought that Cassandra was showing confidence, that she was comfortable enough with their physical connection to make her own choices and lead instead of follow. Even so, Morrigan couldn't resist sliding her fingers through Cassandra's short hair and offering a bit of guidance. Without a hold to ground her, she feared she might come at the first touch of Cassandra's tongue.

"Morrigan," Cassandra muttered into her stomach, still covering it with kisses. "You are... so beautiful..."

They were words Morrigan had heard before, even from Cassandra, but they made her heart clench in her chest and her whole body shiver with delight. She knew Cassandra wasn't only talking about her appearance. Despite the strained circumstances that had forced them together, the Seeker had looked past that and found something underneath—something Morrigan hadn't even known she'd possessed herself.

On impulse, she moved her hand from Cassandra's hair to her chin, tilting her face up until their eyes locked. " _ You _ are beautiful. But enough talking. I have a better use for your tongue." She spread her thighs, and let out an audible sigh of relief when Cassandra removed her skirt and slid it off, along with the leggings and smallclothes she was sure she had already soaked through. The Seeker's lips tickled as they trailed up along her thigh, and Morrigan fisted the sheets, trying not to squirm. Even though Cassandra hadn't touched her sex yet, every nerve seemed alive with sensation. She could practically feel her lover's tongue sliding against her, curling, coaxing… 

 

"Please," she said, begging for what she knew wouldn't be the last time. "Cassandra..."

Hearing her name seemed to spur Cassandra into action. An insistent thumb pushed back the hood of her clit, revealing the swollen tip, and moments later, a smooth tongue ran over it. Morrigan cried out at the first swipe. She hadn't expected such direct stimulation yet, especially since Cassandra had seemed determined to tease her. But the jolt of lightning that shot through her and the shudders of pleasure that followed had her shifting in search of more. The last thing she wanted was for Cassandra to back away.

But the Seeker had no intention of doing so. Instead, Cassandra took hold of her hips, locking them in place while she went to work. Her actions held more confidence than ever before, and the circles her tongue painted across Morrigan’s clit felt divine.

More than that, it was the sheer force of Morrigan’s need that pushed her to new heights. She had hungered for lovers before, never more so than in the Still Ruins with Cassandra, but this was different. Her desire went beyond the physical to a place she had never experienced before. It wasn’t just pleasure that she needed, it was  _ Cassandra _ that she needed to give it to her, and Cassandra that she wanted to come undone for.

One of her hands returned to the Seeker’s hair, tugging on the short strands. The pressure only seemed to encourage Cassandra, because her fingers dug in tighter and her lips sealed around the head of Morrigan’s clit. The warmth made Morrigan shiver, fresh streams of her arousal spilling out to paint Cassandra’s chin. Under other circumstances, it might have been embarrassing how easily she was coming undone, but not anymore. She had already confessed her feelings to Cassandra. There was no need for her to stifle her reactions.

Shockwaves rippled through Morrigan’s body with each stroke of Cassandra’s tongue, but it wasn’t quite enough to send her over the edge. She needed to feel utterly claimed by Cassandra, so deeply that it overwhelmed everything else. It wasn’t easy to speak, but she managed to interrupt her stream of moans long enough to plead, “Your fingers too. I need...”

Her words were cut off as Cassandra did what she’d been told, bringing two of them up to Morrigan’s slick entrance and pushing inside. The penetration made her gasp, but when Cassandra began with a careful exploration, her hand clutched at the Seeker’s wrist, silently urging her to go faster. She appreciated the concern, but  _ gentle _ was not what she needed.

Fortunately, Cassandra got the message quickly enough. Her fingers hooked, catching against Morrigan’s swollen front wall, and she began thrusting more forcefully. After a few strokes, her tongue went back to work as well, lashing across Morrigan’s clit in time with the movements of her hand. The combination of sensations was too much to resist for long, and Morrigan didn’t even bother trying. She tightened her grip on Cassandra’s arm and tugged at her hair as the rest of her body went rigid.

“Cassandra,  _ yes, _ ” she gasped, any restraint long forgotten. “Don't... don't stop...”

Those were the last words she managed. The slide of Cassandra's tongue and the pressure of her fingers were too much for Morrigan to bear. Heat surged through her, blossoming out from that wonderful spot, and a scream ripped from her throat. Her release broke over her in rippling waves, and her hips froze as shuddering pulses of warmth poured out to fill Cassandra’s hand. But the fingers inside her kept thrusting and curling, and she clamped down around them in desperation. Now that her body had what it needed, it didn't want to let go.

Her lover didn't seem inclined to give her up either. Cassandra sucked her deeper, and Morrigan's clit twitched in the seal of her lips. Her mouth opened again, but this time, even shouting was beyond her. She fell back against the pillow, holding onto Cassandra's head for dear life, shivering with silent pleasure as her climax rolled through her.

* * *

Cassandra's lungs burned, but when Morrigan's fingers tightened in her hair and a sharp heel dug in between her shoulderblades, she allowed herself to be held in place. The steady throb against her mouth and the rush of warmth spilling over her chin and wrist made her proud, and the last thing she wanted to do was pull away too soon. She had made Morrigan come before, but somehow, this seemed different. Morrigan's confession of love had made  _ everything _ different.

_ 'I need you, Cassandra. To be... yours.' _ She could still hear Morrigan's words in her head as clearly as if they had just been spoken.  _ 'Need you... yours...' _ They urged her to increase her efforts. Her fingers could barely move while the clinging satin of Morrigan's inner walls clutched at them so tightly, but she lashed her tongue over the stiff bud of Morrigan's clit, trying to draw out her release for as long as possible. She didn't want it to end, even though she was struggling to breathe.

But a moment so powerful couldn't last forever. Morrigan went limp beneath her, shivering with what Cassandra could only assume was exhaustion. Her muscles still fluttered with aftershocks, but they were random instead of rhythmic, and Cassandra found that she could move her hand again. She started to remove her fingers, but Morrigan made a soft noise of disappointment, rocking her hips a little in a silent plea for her to remain where she was.

Cassandra removed her mouth instead, placing a kiss against one of Morrigan's trembling inner thighs. She tried to think of something to say, something worthy of one of the heroines in Varric's books, but it was Morrigan who spoke first. The witch propped herself up on her elbows, staring down at her with dark, blazing eyes. "Open the drawer beside the bed."

That wasn't at all what Cassandra had expected her to say. In fact, she hadn't thought Morrigan would be capable of talking at all for another minute at least. Her body was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and it was clear from her heavy breathing that she was still recovering. But if Morrigan wanted something, Cassandra would move the earth and the Fade to give it to her. Shifting a foot to the left to reach the nightstand was nothing. She withdrew her hand, not receiving any complaints this time, and did as Morrigan had asked.

She wasn't entirely surprised to see Leliana's gift lying in its opened box, but the sight did make her heart throb against her chest. She aimed a glance at Morrigan, who already wore an encouraging smile. "Take it," she urged, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from her forehead. "T'will not burn you. I expect you are as curious as I am."

Cassandra blushed, but did not deny it. It was true that the thought had crossed her mind during stolen moments with Morrigan on their way to Mythal's temple. And since Morrigan had avoided her and the rest of their party during their journey back to Skyhold, she was sorely in need of an orgasm of her own. The thought of taking some pleasure for herself while satisfying Morrigan at the same time was a tempting one.

Reaching into the box, Cassandra took out the toy, turning the leather shaft over in her hands. “I am not certain how I should begin with this… device,” she admitted, studying it carefully. Obviously the smaller end was supposed to go inside her, but the lyrium runes inscribed along its surface were beyond her knowledge and experience.

Morrigan took the toy from her with a beautiful smile. Strands of the witch’s hair had come loose from their bun, clinging to her face, while the look of amusement there was a welcome change. For days, Cassandra had seen little but worry written across it, and to know that she’d been able fix that, even if it was only for the moment, warmed her heart.

“Allow me,” Morrigan said. She stroked the shaft lightly with her fist, and the faint runes along its length lit up. They glowed white for a moment, swelling bright before dimming to almost nothing once more. Tentatively, Cassandra reached out to feel its surface again. This time, it was warm to the touch in the way that flesh was, radiating heat.

“How did you activate the runes?”

Morrigan smirked. "I have some knowledge of enchantment. Besides, how else would something with this shape be activated? Touch seemed the most logical choice."

"Remarkable..."

“I imagine it will seem even more impressive once it is inside you.” Morrigan’s voice had become sultry once more and the ache between Cassandra’s legs returned with a vengeance. The mystery of the toy had distracted her from it, but not for long.

"Just to be clear, you wish for me to wear it?" she asked, unable to disguise the strain in her voice and not even bothering to try. It wasn't something she had considered much until being presented with the gift, but she had to admit the thought was appealing.  _ More than merely appealing. Perhaps it is unusual, but the thought of feeling her in such a way...  _ She shuddered with want, a fact that Morrigan clearly noticed.

"It seems that  _ you _ wish for you to wear it. And I am more than happy to let you."

Cassandra's face brightened at the word 'happy'. She couldn't help it. Morrigan's happiness was her doing, and it felt like a great accomplishment. But she did not have long to congratulate herself, or to worry about the logistics. Morrigan’s hands went to her pants, and Cassandra was only too eager to help yank them down once the ties were loosened. Her smallclothes followed swiftly, and soon, she was in the same state as Morrigan, naked and flushed with anticipation.

When Morrigan's palm slid down over the bunched muscles of her abdomen, Cassandra trembled. Wetness and heat were already blossoming between her legs, and when Morrigan's fingers dipped low enough to find both, Cassandra couldn't stifle a moan. Once, it had startled her how strongly she responded to the witch’s touch, but now she knew better than to question it. She was ready, even eager to let the pleasure Morrigan gave consume her.

“Get on your back,” Morrigan told her. Cassandra hastened to comply, spreading her legs when the witch’s hands settled on her thighs to coax them apart. Moments later, the teasing fingers returned, running along her folds once more before settling at her entrance. One slipped inside with ease, and Cassandra whimpered at the slight stretch. It was pleasurable without being satisfying, and she already wanted more. Instead, Morrigan pulled back, and Cassandra bit her lip when she noticed the way her lover's hand glistened.

“You hardly need my help,” Morrigan purred. She bent down to place a swift kiss on the tip of Cassandra’s clit. “‘Tis just as well. I want you inside me now.”

“Then… put it in.” Cassandra knew her voice was cracking, but she couldn’t help herself. The anticipation was making her desperate, and she didn’t care if Morrigan knew it.

Morrigan brought the shorter end to her entrance without any further teasing, and Cassandra groaned as it settled against her. There was a pleasant moment of stretching as Morrigan began to push, but what came next was truly remarkable. Once the toy came to rest inside her and the seat pressed into her clit, the runes flashed once more. Suddenly, Cassandra could feel Morrigan’s fingers wrapped around what felt like  _ very _ sensitive skin.

“That is… incredible,” she gasped as Morrigan's hand ran up and down the shaft. The motion caused pressure to build inside her, and her inner muscles fluttered, squeezing tighter. “It is as if…”

Cassandra swallowed the rest of her words as her lover’s thumb reached the tip, making the entire length twitch and a trickle of wetness spill down over Morrigan’s fingers. “So it appears.” Morrigan’s grin was hungry. “Do not tell me. Show me.”

That was all the encouragement Cassandra needed. She still wasn't entirely certain how her new anatomy worked, but she was eager to find out. She reversed their positions, leaning forward and guiding Morrigan onto her back while bracing herself on her elbows. Morrigan's arms wrapped around her almost immediately, welcoming her weight, and Cassandra smiled. Apparently, she had chosen a position that appealed to both of them.

Unfortunately, aligning their bodies proved slightly more difficult. Her shaft pressed awkwardly into Morrigan's hip, and then her inner thigh, slipping far from where she wanted it. Her brow furrowed, and she frowned, trying to figure out a solution without putting too much space between their bodies. "Here," Morrigan murmured, hooking a knee around her waist and adjusting the angle of her pelvis. "Try this..."

The change in angle allowed Cassandra much easier access. Warmth pulsed against the tip of her shaft as she dragged through Morrigan's wetness, and the sensation sent a shudder coursing through her. "Maker," she breathed, overwhelmed by the unusual rush of sensation. She had explored Morrigan with her fingers before, but this was entirely different. It felt almost like the welcoming softness of a mouth was teasing the head of her clit, but the heat was much more intense. "I—I can feel..."

"Cassandra..." Morrigan rocked into her, allowing even more contact and coating her shaft with extra slickness. Their gazes met, and the need in Morrigan's dark eyes made Cassandra's heart clench. Once more, Morrigan's confession echoed through her head. _ 'I need you, Cassandra. To be... yours.' _ The truth and sincerity in that statement was obvious in every detail of Morrigan's face, and suddenly, Cassandra wanted nothing more than to be buried to the hilt inside her lover.

Once she lined up properly with Morrigan's opening, she had little trouble moving forward. Cassandra let out a choked gasp as that incredible tightness began to swallow her, but there was plenty of wetness to ease her way, and almost no resistance. Morrigan's inner walls felt even smoother and hotter around her shaft than they did around her fingers, and a heavy throb of want raced along her length.

Cassandra’s mouth fell open, and she temporarily halted her movements as she tried to adjust to the sensation of being inside her lover this way. Not only was it intense, but it was also far different than anything she’d experienced before, and she worried it might overwhelm her. Her sincerity didn’t earn her any reproach. Instead, Morrigan’s hands gently caressed her back, easing her into the feeling. Her touch was soothing, and once Cassandra was confident she wouldn’t lose control too quickly, she began to move. Tentatively, she pulled back a few inches and then slid back inside to the hilt. The friction was divine, as was the way that Morrigan’s eyes widened.

“Oh, yes,” the witch gasped, “Just like that.”

Her enthusiasm inspired Cassandra. She began moving more rapidly now, plunging deep into Morrigan with each thrust while her hands ran along her lover’s soft curves. Cassandra stroked her hips, traced her sides, squeezed her breasts; anything to get more of the woman beneath her.  Morrigan responded in kind, grabbing Cassandra’s ass and encouraging her to go harder.

It seemed as if Cassandra’s hips were moving under their own power, instinct replacing the brain that had so often left her confused when it came to Morrigan. The cock really did feel like an extension of her body, a body that was falling into a rhythm that felt surprisingly natural, to say nothing of blissful. Morrigan was pressing down tightly around her, and yet she was so wet that Cassandra could slide in and out of her with ease. Every squeeze, every thrust, every motion either of them made sent fresh pulses down her shaft into her clit, making her growl with her pleasure.

“Yes, Cassandra, more,” Morrigan rasped, and the primal need to claim the woman beneath her became overpowering. The thought of the strange voices of the Well or this Mythal laying claim to her lover was unacceptable. Morrigan was  _ hers _ and Cassandra didn’t want to leave any doubt of that fact. She wanted to take her, to claim her in ways that she had never considered before but were now all she could think of.

Morrigan had angled her hips upward, and Cassandra pressed back hard against her to offer purchase. Her own peak was crashing into view and the only thing holding her back was the need to see Morrigan reach hers first. That moment didn’t seem far off. Wetness ran between their bodies, streaming down Cassandra’s shaft and onto her thighs. The sensation of that warmth on her skin only pushed her harder. When Morrigan moaned loudly, Cassandra caught her lips for a hard kiss, drinking the sounds of her pleasure.

“Mine,” Cassandra growled into her ear when she broke the kiss. “You’re mine.”

“I am,” Morrigan whimpered, arching backward and baring her neck. Cassandra latched onto the sensitive skin, and the witch bucked hard beneath her. Suddenly, all she knew was Morrigan. Morrigan’s hands clutching at her shoulders. Morrigan’s heels digging into the back of her legs. Morrigan’s inner walls rippling around her, urging her to come.

That feeling, and the permission that went with it, shattered the last of Cassandra’s resolve. She thrust as deeply as she could manage, and as their hips slammed together, a bolt of pure pleasure ran down the shaft of the toy. She squeezed around the part buried inside of her, and her clit throbbed as she gave in to her climax, praying that Morrigan would fly over the edge with her.

Cassandra’s release broke over her in crashing waves. Her hips jerked, losing their rhythm completely, and she let out a muffled cry against Morrigan's shoulder. Thick pulses rushed along the length of the cock, bursting free from the aching head. The powerful surge took her completely by surprise, but she was too far gone to care. The thought that she was filling Morrigan, hopefully with her own wetness, only sent her spiraling further out of control.

Morrigan tensed beneath her, her breath hitching at first, but moments later, the little gasp was replaced with a high-pitched wail. Sharp nails raked down her back, and Cassandra felt the clinging warmth around her clench even tighter. Morrigan's inner walls fluttered, shivering harder every time another flood of heat spilled from her shaft. It only encouraged Cassandra further. She let go, surrendering to the shudders that passed between them.

It took a long time for the two of them to float back to earth. Each time Morrigan trembled with aftershocks, Cassandra felt herself respond. The toy had finished emptying, and its length no longer felt strained, but her clit still twitched against the seat. She stopped bearing her mass on her elbows and fell forward, letting Morrigan carry a bit more of her weight. "I... I had no idea that would..."

"I did wonder," Morrigan panted, still happily breathless.

Cassandra started to ask how she had known, but then she remembered the way her desire had spilled over Morrigan's fingers before the two of them had started. She had been too wrapped up in the new sensations to question it, or consider what it might mean. "I suppose it was a... pleasant surprise? It certainly felt..." She couldn't find the words, but her body shook.

Morrigan laughed. "I take it you approve of Dagna's design?"

Cassandra nodded, nuzzling her face further into the crook of Morrigan's neck. Even though she had stopped thrusting, the subtle sensations of softness and heat travelling through the shaft still felt nice.  _ It is... comforting to be inside her, no matter which way. And thinking about what she said earlier makes me feel... connected.  _ The fact that Morrigan had acknowledged feelings for her beyond attraction was overwhelming, and she found herself grinning.

"Did you truly mean what you said earlier? And just now?"

Morrigan shifted, turning her head on the pillow so they could see each other's faces more easily. "I said many things. Which did you mean?"

"About... wishing to be mine. And feeling some tie to me. One that goes beyond, er... sex."

"You can say the word," Morrigan teased. "The two of us have engaged in a good deal of it, after all."

Cassandra blushed, groaning softly in frustration. "Must you be sarcastic about everything? Please, answer my question. Did you truly mean what you said?"

Morrigan sighed, draping a slender arm about her waist and tracing lightly along the furrow of her spine. "Yes. I truly meant it. As much as I may wish to keep to myself, I have come to realize that I need the company of other people. Your company most of all. I wish to share it always. That is, if you think you can tolerate me in return."

"Tolerate you?" Cassandra laughed. She knew she was probably smiling like a fool, but she hardly cared. "Somehow, beyond all understanding, I have come to adore you. If you wish to be mine, I wish to be yours as well. Although we will have to work on your romantic overtures."

Morrigan arched a brow. She swept her other hand along the side of their naked bodies. "'Tis this not a romantic overture?"

"It is an excellent start," Cassandra said. "Perhaps poetry next time."

"That may require some bribery on your part," Morrigan said. "What do you have to offer me in return?" Cassandra's smile became a much thinner smirk. Instead of answering, she rocked her hips, pushing deep enough to make Morrigan moan. "That... is an acceptable trade," she murmured. "Keep going. I am far from finished with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end approaches. Only 2 chapters left after this extra-long one. We hope you enjoyed it, and let us know what you think.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go, and we're working on it now.

“Fuck.”

The final expletive slipped weakly from Sera’s lips as she slumped down into the softness of the massive bed. Her earlier curses had been more forceful, but now, a sheen of sweat covered her naked body and her throat was sore from screaming. Her trembling hand reached for the mug of water by the side of the bed, but in spite of the blissful aftershocks that still hummed through her body, she was uneasy.

Crawling out from between her legs, Herah joined her at the head of the bed, and Sera nuzzled into the Inquisitor’s broad chest. It felt so good to be pressed up against her, and Sera’s instinct was to just settle in for a nice post-shag nap. Even without words, though, she could tell something was wrong. Herah should have been as relaxed as she was, but Sera could still feel the tension in her frame. She forced her drowsy head up so she could look into the Inquisitor’s big, brown eyes.

“Everything right there, Inky?” she asked, a question she suspected she already knew the answer to.

“Why?” Herah bent down to kiss the top of Sera’s messy mop of blonde hair. “Wasn’t it good?”

“Oh, yeah. You've got a great tongue. Spend lotsa time down there using it too. No complaints. ‘S not that.”

Herah smiled at the praise, but only briefly. “Then what is it?”

“You were... I dunno, too wound up. Even after. After, you usually melt proper. And I know I didn’t do a shite job, so I figure something’s not right.”

Herah laughed. Sera usually enjoyed the sound greatly, but there was a nervous edge to it now. “You know me too well. You’re right, I guess I am too tense to really relax right now, even after a couple of great orgasms. But aren’t you? I mean, in the morning we have to leave for the Valley of Sacred Ashes. The big final showdown, and we don’t even have most of our army. Who wouldn’t be a least a little bit scared of that?”

“Me.” Sera was surprised to hear herself say the word. After all, she’d been terrified of so many of the terrible things they’d encountered. Bizarre magic and weird monsters seemed to swarm around them all the time, freaking her the fuck out. And yet here they were, getting ready to confront the monster king of bad magic, Coryphy-spit himself, and Sera was oddly calm.

Herah seemed surprised too. “Really?” she asked, a welcome smile appearing on her face. “End of the world, valley full of scary demons, Corypheus... none of that’s getting to you?”

“Probably should,” Sera declared. “But hey, did that already. Weird stuff happens, I freak, you tell me things’ll sort out okay. And I believe you, Inky. Look, ‘s not easy for me to trust people, ‘specially not scary mage people with glowing hands, but I figured out I can trust you. Every time you say we can do this shite, we do. Baddies go down, we walk away, go have a drink and a shag. I gotta think you got one more ass kicking in you, yeah?”

Herah’s smile broadened. “Just one more?”

“Probably lots more. But one more for sure, just for Cory-pus. Pay him back for all the bad crap he pulled on all of us. And on the sky. Not right messing with the sky like that.” To Sera's relief, Hera's muscular body finally relaxed beneath hers. She let out a long sigh, and Sera laughed as warm breath tickled the top of her hair. "Feels good, this. Right? You and me."

"Better than good," Herah said, sounding much more confident than before.

Sera grinned. "And once this shite's over, it'll feel like this all the time. Sera and Inky, biggest damn heroes in Thedas."

"I didn't think you wanted to be a hero," Herah said. "Won't all the praise and self-importance get to your head?"

"Pfft.  _ Right. _ Never. I want to be one of those wandering, legend-y type heroes. The kind that helps some poor family rebuild their shack and puts arrows through a few bandits, then disappears into the night, and when she leaves, they realize, 'Oh! That was her!' And then you get songs written about you, with two times the bandits and maybe a dragon too."

"Sounds like you've got our retirement all figured out," Herah chuckled. "Wandering heroes it is."

Sera wasn't entirely sure if the future she envisioned was something that could happen—Herah was the Inquisitor, after all—but the thought that it  _ might _ , and that Herah could see the dream as clearly as she could gave her even more hope. "This is your fault, yeah? Me wanting to be a hero."

"My fault?" Herah peered down at her with raised eyebrows. "You left a trail of weird clues leading to a spooky courtyard, stole a bunch of guards' breeches, and  _ demanded _ to join me. You wanted to get involved in all this from the start."

"Right, but only 'cause you were so tall and... yeah, tall."

"Yes, we've established that you like your women tall. Let's hope you don't meet any other qunari taller than me once we become wandering heroes."

Even though there wasn't a trace of insecurity in Herah's voice, Sera flipped over, straddling her waist and peering down at her with a soft look. "Well, she'd have to be a right good kisser. And brave. Pretty eyes... Horns are nice too. Useful, them."

"Useful?" Herah asked, smirking a little.

"For holding on to, Inky." She scooted up further on the bed, until her knees were on either side of Herah's shoulders and the aforementioned horns were well within reach of her hands. "Here. I c'n show you if you like..."

"You'd better," Herah said, running her tongue over her lower lip. "I think I'm going to need a lengthy demonstration."

* * *

Morrigan drew back her crackling fist, watching the terror demon before her crumble in a shower of icy shards. She hurried around its remains, keeping her eyes always on the back of Cassandra's head. Their party had already met considerable resistance, but she knew this was only the beginning. Corypheus was a being of great power, and he would not be easily destroyed.

The others knew it too. Although they dispatched the nearby demons with deadly efficiency, there was none of the joking banter Morrigan had become accustomed to on their quests. The Inquisitor and Sera stood back to back, their spells and arrows making sure that most of the creatures were cut down before they could get close. Vivienne’s spectral blade took care of those that remained, while Cassandra’s shield seemed to be everywhere, blocking the incoming attacks of the far-away wraiths. Further in the distance, Morrigan could see the flashes of metal and magic as the rest of the Inquisition’s warriors fought to keep the mass of the demons away from their strike force, but they were too far away to help with what was coming. It was up to this small group to defeat Corypheus. 

And it was up to Morrigan to defeat his dragon, which was why she had been limiting her magic as much as she could afford to. Thanks to her mother, she knew how to make the transformation, but it would be a strain beyond anything she had ever before attempted. A raven or a bear was one thing, but this…

There was no time to dwell on it. Cassandra’s blade cut a terror demon cleanly in half, Sera’s arrow pierced the skull of another, and as the creatures fell, Morrigan could see clearly the massive figure of Corypheus waiting for them amidst the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The magister loomed over the bodies of two slain Inquisition soldiers but he looked up at their approach, making a mocking bow in the direction of Herah.

“I knew you would come.” 

Every syllable of his deep, resonant voice seemed to echo through Morrigan’s bones. His power was unconcealed and undeniable, but the Inquisitor was not cowed. She stepped forward, raising her staff and reinforcing the barriers around all of them. “It ends here, Corypheus.”

“And so it shall.”

Corypheus raised his hands. Red lightning wrapped around them, but rather than being flung at their group, he directed it down into the stone floor. A hideous grating followed, and Morrigan stumbled backwards, falling into a heap as, impossibly, the ground on which she stood began to lift up into the air. She could only stare in shock as all around her, huge masses of land followed suit. What remained of the Temple of Sacred Ashes ripped free from the earth, rising up into the night sky in a display of raw might that ensured no one else would be able to interfere with what came next.

From this height, Morrigan had a spectacular view of the valley below, but she had not come there to admire it. As their team staggered back to their feet, Corypheus spoke once more. “You have been most successful in foiling my plans,” he declared, “but let us not forget what you are. A thief, in the wrong place at the wrong time. An interloper. A gnat. We shall prove here, once and for all, which of us is worthy of godhood.”

Herah shook her head, and Morrigan could see why. The magister clearly had no idea of what drove her. “I didn’t come here to become a god, Corypheus. Just to stop you.”

The Inquisitor’s eyes locked with those of her enemy and for a moment, it felt as if the world was standing still, waiting for one of them to make the first move. As it turned out, neither of them did. A low, loud growl boomed from behind a shattered wall and a massive scaled head rose into view, followed by a pair of heavy claws. Great, ragged wings unfurled themselves, and Corypheus’s dragon peered down at the Inquisition.

_ At Cassandra _ . Though the beast threatened them all, it was the Seeker who stood at the front of the group, a wall to shield her friends.  _ And I must shield her. _

The dragon roared, and its feet shook the stone around them. It reared like a serpent preparing to strike, but as its muscles bunched, Morrigan felt raw power course through her. What happened next was pure instinct. She swelled outside of herself, drawing on every scrap of magic and protectiveness and ferocity within her. Her body grew and hardened, and great wings sprouted from her back. The transformation should have taken time, but there was none. The dragon was already charging, its eyes fixed straight on Cassandra.

Morrigan didn't hesitate. She leapt, jaws gaping wide in a roar of her own. She would  _ not _ allow this monster to harm her lover. Their bodies collided, and they crashed sideways, tumbling through walls and smashing boulders in their struggle. Suddenly, the ground beneath them gave way. She and the dragon toppled over the edge of the floating platform, free-falling through the air.

The dragon spread its wings, kicking hard at her underbelly in an attempt to shake her off. Morrigan struggled to keep her hold, but the fall had disoriented her. Her grip wavered as they plummeted toward the ground, and somehow, the beast managed to writhe free. It rounded on her, shrieking in rage, but Morrigan didn't lash out again. Instead, she was off like an arrow, soaring through the broken sky and taunting it to follow. As long as the beast was pursuing her, it couldn't harm Cassandra or her friends.

She darted through the crumbling chunks of earth Corypheus had dislodged, ducking and weaving around them, but wherever she went, the dragon followed. She could feel the beating of its wings and the heat of its breath behind her. When it drew too close, she kicked out at one of the rocks, sending bits of shale raining down on the beast's head. It fell back, losing ground, but she knew the reprieve was only temporary. Despite her transformation, her brief grapple with the dragon had convinced her that it was both faster and stronger than she was. Her only hope was to be cleverer.

Instead of circling back to take refuge in the rocks, she opened her wings and changed direction, speeding up toward the glowing green light of the Breach. She flew higher and higher, until the platform was a mere speck below her. Whatever happened, she could not allow the dragon to destroy it. Not while it was the only thing standing between Cassandra and the ground far below. But movement stirred behind her, and she could feel the dragon gaining ground again. It was following her up, and soon, it would catch her.

There was only one choice. She turned, folding her wings close to her body and diving straight down.

This time, the collision was hard enough to rattle her bones. They locked together with teeth and claws, battering each other with their wings as they spiraled downward. Searing pain exploded along her side, piercing her scales, and Morrigan screamed. Her jaws snapped, but she couldn't find a hold. They veered into a wild spin, and as Morrigan saw the flashing lights of the battle beneath them, she realized that they were streaking straight toward her companions.

She summoned the last of her strength, raking every inch of the dragon's armored hide that she could reach, but it wasn't enough. Her tearing and thrashing came too late. She crashed to the ground with its bulk on top of her. Suddenly, she was very small again, and darkness swam everywhere. Morrigan groaned, trying to pick herself up, but it was useless. Blood pulsed out of her with each heartbeat, streaming down her side, and she collapsed, lost in a fog of pain and exhaustion.

She saw the glint of green light on a metal shield, and tears welled in her eyes before everything went black.  _ Cassandra... I'm so sorry… _

* * *

The muscles of Cassandra’s arm burned with the strain of holding her shield up in the face of Corypheus’s magic, but though the flow of energy coming from his hand was unrelenting, she wouldn’t give in. Fortunately, she didn’t have to hold out forever. An arrow from Sera’s bow struck the magister in the shoulder, and he staggered backwards, only to be seared by a burst of Herah’s flame.

“Enough!” Corypheus roared. He threw up his hands, and a burst of red light flew forth, staggering the Inquisition members long enough for him to fly further up the cracked staircase behind him.

“Is everyone all right?” Herah asked as soon as she caught her breath.

“Yeah, Inky, just…”

Before Sera could finish her sentence, her head jerked around, swiftly followed by the other members of the Inquisition. From above them, there was the rush of a great wind, and when Cassandra looked up, she saw the two dragons crashing toward the ground. Their claws and teeth were raking into each other, but Cassandra realized to her horror that Corypheus’s monster had the upper hand, its teeth on Morrigan’s throat.

“Morrigan!” Cassandra screamed, but there was nothing that could be done. The pair slammed into the ground with a sickening crash, the impact throwing up a massive cloud of dust and debris that temporarily blinded her. When it cleared, however, Cassandra could only see one of the combatants. The red lyrium dragon staggered out of the crater, wounded but still alive, while of Morrigan, there was no sign.

At least not immediately. A moment later, Cassandra’s frantic eyes found the object of her search. The force of the impact had apparently broken Morrigan’s transformation. She lay sprawled on the hard stone some distance from the dragon, back in her battered human form. Cassandra’s first impulse was to run to her, but as badly as she wanted to offer aid, she realized there was nothing she could do if they were all eaten. The dragon roared, and her worry became rage. The creature who had hurt her lover would die, and it would be at her blade.

The rest of the Inquisition moved to attack as well, but Cassandra outpaced them all. Even before Sera and Herah’s ranged attacks could reach the dragon, she was already upon it. A blast of red energy flew from its mouth, but between her shield and the fresh barrier Vivienne had hastily erected, she didn’t even slow down.

When her longsword crashed into the dragon’s armored side, the impact shock ran up her arm, but Cassandra ignored the pain. The sooner the creature was dead, the sooner she could see to Morrigan, and she wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that. Over and over, she struck, hacking and slashing until sprays of black ichor were running down her blade and onto her gauntleted hand. Dimly, she was aware of other attacks, of arrows, and spells, and spectral blades aiding her efforts, but her focus was on her enemy.

She knocked back the dragon’s claw strike with her shield, and when it turned its massive head toward her, Cassandra saw her opening. This time, she let the swipe of its jaw knock her shield from her grasp, instead taking hold of her sword with both hands and striking at the exposed flesh of the dragon’s neck. The most horrid screech came from its throat as she hit home, and while it was distracted, Cassandra leapt upon the creature’s back for a better angle.

Her second blow slammed home with even greater force. The beast thrashed, spraying more of its burning breath up at her. The heat was intense even through layers of steel and leather, but Cassandra wouldn’t be deterred. The next strike stilled the movement of the dragon’s head, and a fourth severed the spine, the blade descending deep into its exposed innards. Its enormous bulk collapsed, making the ground shudder, and its head lolled off to the side, severed half-way from its body.

Cassandra clambered down the dragon’s arm, eyes already locked on Morrigan, but something else demanded her attention. The dragon’s corpse gave one last lurch, and a glowing red light pulsed from within its great jaws. It emerged, gathering into a crackling ball of flame and soaring through the air toward Corypheus. He climbed astride the crumbling rampart above them, hands raised to the sky as the light sank into his chest and seemed to set him ablaze.

"Let it end here!" he cried, holding the glowing orb aloft in his bony hand. "Let the skies boil and the world be rent asunder!"

"Balls," Sera muttered from beside Cassandra's shoulder. "Knew it wouldn't be that easy."

But Cassandra's eyes narrowed with determination. She retrieved her fallen shield and raised her blade again, spattering globs of blood and gore everywhere. There was not a drop of fear left in her except the fear of losing Morrigan. "Hurry," she panted, practically dragging Sera up the stairs. The slower they were, the more precious time they wasted.


	24. Chapter 24

Herah threw up her barriers, just in time to stop another blast of Corypheus's magic. He seemed intently focused on her, but she was more than willing to take the brunt of the magister's attacks. If he was busy trying to destroy her, it gave her companions the openings they needed. Sera was off to her left, firing arrows from a safe distance. Vivienne was to her right, striking out with beams of ice. And Cassandra... Cassandra was a whirlwind of fury, hacking and slashing at Corypheus in a bloodrage.

The ferocity with which she had fought the dragon hadn't flagged one bit, and she laid into Corypheus as if she had everything to lose. Wherever the magister flew, she followed, charging at breakneck speed. He was never beyond the reach of her blade for more than a few moments and finally, her onslaught proved to be unstoppable. When a bash from her shield sent him reeling, Herah saw her chance. She summoned all the strength within her and reached into the Fade. A piece of the sky split open above Corypheus's head, and fire rained down from above, trapping him beneath a shower of blazing rock.

"No!" Corypheus howled as her firestorm broke through his defenses. He retreated to the platform, grasping through the air with burning fingers. The elven orb hovered between his hands, spitting and crackling with threads of red lightning. "Not like this! I have walked the halls of the Golden City, crossed the ages..."

Herah started up the steps toward him, clenching her fist. Her mark burned in the center of her hand, but she ignored the pain. The agony Corypheus was about to endure would be far worse.

"Dumat, ancient ones, I beseech you! If you exist, if you ever  _ truly _ existed, aid me now!"

She raised her hand sharply, and the orb left Corypheus's grasp, soaring toward her palm instead. He staggered as she caught it, and he stumbled to his knees, staring in disbelief as her green light swallowed the source of his power. She could  _ feel _ it running through her arm, through her entire body, and the throbbing swell of energy was so great that she couldn't contain it. She stretched her arm toward the sky, and a brilliant column of light shot straight up into the Breach, disappearing into the swirling green stormclouds above.

And then all of a sudden, it ended. The sky calmed, pulling in on itself, and the orb lost its glow. Herah dropped it into the dust, turning back to Corypheus with purpose in her stride. “You wanted into the Fade?” she snarled, fist flickering as she activated her mark. The air between them began to split and shimmer, and Corypheus screamed in agony. Lances of green energy ran from his torso to his neck, and his hands flailed about in a futile attempt to find some purchase. But it was too late. The energy of the mark was consuming him from the inside out, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The lightning spread to the tips of his limbs and beyond into the air, forming a rift that sucked him into the Fade even as it tore him apart. His mouth hung open, but whatever final words the ancient magister might have had were lost as he vanished out of the world for good.

Her enemy gone, Herah’s hand dropped to her side. The energy of the mark was starting to ebb, but she scarcely noticed that it no longer tingled quite so fiercely. Her eyes remained fixed on the spot where Corypheus had been only moments earlier. It was almost impossible to believe, but it was  _ over. _ They had  _ won. _

***

There was no gradual awakening for Morrigan. Something crashed mere feet from her head, and her eyes flew open to the sight of shards of rock raining down on her. Her drowsiness vanished, and she looked back and forth as she tried to figure out what had happened.  _ Is Cassandra all right? Where is Corypheus? And the Inquisitor? _

And then she saw her. The figure of the Seeker running toward her stood out even in the darkened chaos all around them. She was covered in blood and grime, but that didn’t stop her from being the most welcome sight Morrigan had ever seen. A gauntleted hand reached out to hers, and when she took it, Cassandra pulled her to her feet. Morrigan’s legs were wobbly, but they held. Her head was another story. She wasn’t sure quite what she’d done to it, but it was enough to leave her woozy.

Cassandra seemed to notice her weakness, because she drew out a small vial filled with red liquid. “Here. Drink this.”

In spite of Cassandra’s brusqueness, Morrigan could hear the concern in her voice, along with relief. It echoed her own, but there would be time for that later. She chugged down the healing potion, and as she felt the strength start returning to her body, she asked, “Corypheus?”

“Dead. Now come. Without his magic, the temple is falling apart.”

That much was not hard to see. Chunks of stone were crashing all around them, and the ground beneath was even shakier than Morrigan’s legs. The next few minutes were a blur, spent ducking falling rubble and scrambling down crumbling staircases and across disintegrating floors. It would have been easier if Morrigan had assumed her raven shape, but she wasn’t sure she had the strength for that after her earlier transformation, and even if she had, it didn’t feel right to leave Cassandra behind. She could see the other members of their team fleeing the ruins as well, but there was no time to exchange any words with them. All she could do was run.

By the time they reached the safety of the earth below, that had become difficult. The healing potion had gotten her as far as it had to, but while Sera leapt into Herah’s arms for a celebratory kiss, all Morrigan could do was collapse into Cassandra’s. Her limbs felt like water and her chest burned, but it didn’t matter. She’d made it out alive, and Cassandra was with her. Everything else could be fixed later.

Cassandra eased her down to the ground, and as she knelt above her, Morrigan could see the joy in her eyes. “Maker, Morrigan. When you fell… I’m so relieved.”

“It was nothing. I only fear I let you down. The dragon…”

“You weakened it enough for us to finish that job. And you saved my life. It was  _ quite _ impressive.”

Before Morrigan could reply, Cassandra’s head dipped down, and as the kiss began, she decided she didn’t actually need to say more. The warmth of her lover’s mouth and the snug, secure feel of her embrace made everything else seem irrelevant. It was a delight she was only too happy to lose herself in.

Or at least she would have been if it weren’t for the irritating sound of Varric’s voice interrupting the moment. “Well, isn’t that something,” he declared. “The brave heroines save the day  _ and _ get the girls. I’d put it in my next book, but it might be too sappy.”

Morrigan turned her head to see much of the rest of the Inquisition gathered at the base of the ruins to greet their returning party. Bull and Dorian, Harding and Cole, Blackwall and Varric; all of them were staring at the victors with expressions ranging from joyful to bemused. Cassandra blushed at their attentions, but Morrigan only looked up at her and smiled. “Just kiss me again,” she ordered. “We can kill the dwarf later.”

* * *

"Then she  _ springs _ on its back and  _ shoves _ her whole damn sword straight through it's great flipping neck!" Sera crowed, stabbing through the empty air above the table with her fork to demonstrate.

Cassandra made a face, shifting in her chair to avoid the spattering of food that followed. While she had to admit that Sera's retelling of events was enthusiastic, the elf was on the verge of ruining one of her very few sets of formal clothes.

"There's blood  _ everywhere!  _ A blood fountain, yeah? All black and spurty. And then she kind of  _ slides _ down its arm on a blood-waterfall and lands on the ground again and says, 'Maker, I hope I killed the right one'."

Cassandra made a choked noise of disgust and rolled her eyes at the impression, but Herah and Leliana laughed, and Varric seemed almost proud. "Not a bad retelling, Buttercup, but I think you can do better with that last line. What she  _ should  _ have said was, 'This isn't how I expected Morrigan to ruin my clothes.' Or maybe—"

"Please, stop," Cassandra groaned, pinching her forehead and covering her eyes. But Sera must have caught the smile she was trying to hide, because she gave one more dig.

"Come off it, Cassandra. What's the point if you don't puff the story up a bit? You chopped off a dragon's  _ whole fucking head. _ "

A sly smirk crossed Leliana's face. "What about, 'This is not the kind of head Morrigan promised'?"

"Andraste protect me. Not you too," Cassandra said, adopting an expression of wounded betrayal. "I thought you were above this sort of childishness, Leliana."

"You forget that I was a bard, Cassandra," Leliana pointed out, not at all repentant. "At least a third of my time was spent entertaining nobles with such jokes."

"Only a third?" Herah asked. "What did you do the rest of the time?"

"Seduction and murder," Leliana replied with a sly grin. "Blackmail, occasionally. Some dancing."

"The exact behavior we want from our Divine-to-be," Cassandra sighed, smiling to make sure Leliana knew she was joking. Although she would be happy to see Leliana ascend to the Sunburst Throne, and she knew that her friend would serve the Chantry well, she couldn't help being a little morose over the fact that Herah hadn't picked her instead. It was true that she had other responsibilities: to the Seekers, the Inquisition, and perhaps now to Morrigan, but the rejection was still a mild sting.

Sera grinned. "Right? Best Divine ever!" She groped Herah's thigh under the table, a gesture Cassandra couldn't help but notice. "Good choice, Inky. She'll give those stuffed habits in Val Royeaux something to shrill about, yeah?"

Herah shuddered in response to Sera's touch, but still managed to offer an apologetic look. "I'm sorry I didn't put your name forward, Cassandra. For the record, I think you would have made a great Divine. It's just... I thought you deserved some time to sort out your feelings in regards to Morrigan. I wanted you to decide for yourself if you wanted to be with her, without an election hanging over your head."

Cassandra's eyes widened in surprise. That was not at all the answer she had expected, but it was one that pleased her greatly. She adopted a much more genuine smile and squeezed Herah's shoulder. "Then I suppose I should thank you, my friend. I had no idea you were taking my personal happiness into consideration..." A thought occurred to her, and her brow furrowed. "But what of Leliana? Surely her Warden will not be pleased to hear about the Divine's vow of celibacy?"

Leliana laughed. "Pleased? She will be thrilled. Everyone knows that sex is better when you are not supposed to be having it. Besides, that is the beauty of becoming the Divine. Perhaps I can convince others that Andraste celebrated love in all its forms, and her followers would be well advised to do the same."

Sera’s guffaws were even louder than Leliana’s had been. “Way to go, Red. Screw those stuffy old rules. It’s time for all of us to get laid.”

“Soon enough, dear.” Herah wrapped her arm around Sera’s waist and gave her stomach a playful squeeze, making the elf grin. Cassandra couldn’t help but notice how much more relaxed the Inquisitor seemed now that her war was won. It was no surprise. The burden that had been thrust on her would’ve been heavy for anyone to bear, but for someone who hadn’t been prepared for it, it must have been especially difficult.

_ And yet the Maker could not have been kinder to us in His choice of instruments. Herah has been all I could’ve hoped for and more. _

The lovers kissed and while the rest of the crowd laughed and clapped, Cassandra felt a tap on her shoulder. Her head turned, and she saw Morrigan standing behind her, wearing a small smile. Some of the bruises she had sustained while in her draconic form were still visible beneath her loose clothing, but she looked far better than she had the night they slew Corypheus.

“Cassandra, I wonder if I might have a word.”

“Of course.” She rose from her chair with a nod to her friends, ignoring the suggestive whistle from Sera and the smug smile from Varric. “What is it?” she asked Morrigan once they were safely out of earshot and the rest of the group had resumed their bantering.

“We have not had much time to speak since we returned to Skyhold,” Morrigan began. “I thought that I should thank you.”

“For what?”

Morrigan gave her one of those knowing smiles that Cassandra had, somewhere along the way, learned to enjoy. “For pulling me out of the temple before it crumbled, of course. And for slaying the dragon. Though I understand that last is something of a habit for you.”

Cassandra hoped that everyone else was too distracted to see her blushing at the praise. “There is really no need. It was the least I could do, after you flung yourself in front of the creature for me. It was… quite dashing.”

She was gratified that Morrigan seemed similarly affected. Her lover’s confession of her feelings before the battle had made it easier for Cassandra to admit to her own. “Well, it seems we have been of service to each other.” Her blush deepened when she realized what she’d said. “In more ways than one, I suppose.”

“Indeed.” Cassandra took Morrigan’s face in her hands and kissed her. It took some getting used to, show affection that where people could see them, but though her years in the Seekers had taught her little that was relevant to romance, she had learned that anything worth doing was worth practicing.

Morrigan responded enthusiastically, bracing a hand against Cassandra’s back to pull her closer. The heat of her mouth was warm and welcoming, and a shiver ran through Cassandra as she wondered just how much better her lover was feeling. Morrigan seemed to be thinking something similar, because when their lips slid apart at last, she stayed close enough to whisper, “When you are done with your celebrating, come and find me, if you wish. Perhaps I might find a better way to express my gratitude.”

A flush heated Cassandra’s face, but she cared little for who might be watching. Morrigan’s offer took up far too much of her attention. “The celebration will last several hours more. I could re-join the others later..."

"Just go shag already!" Sera hollered from the nearby table. "Don't do it here, though. I wouldn't mind, but Vivvy might pucker up until her face looks even more like an arse."

Instead of her usual eye-roll, Morrigan laughed. "'Tis as I feared. Spending time around you and your horrible companions has addled my brain, because Sera actually seems to be speaking some sense. Shall we?"

Cassandra grinned and offered her arm. "We shall."

Morrigan slid hers through, leaning close into her side as they left the room. "I am counting kissing you in front of the entire Inquisition as a grand romantic gesture, I shall have you know. That brings my total up to four."

"Oh? And what four were those?"

"Convincing Varric to pen you that dreadful chapter of your serial, confessing my feelings, turning into a dragon to defend you, and... this."

She leaned in for another kiss, and thanks to the heat of her mouth, Cassandra found herself staggering out of the hall and toward the stairs in a much less dignified manner than she had expected. She didn't even mind Sera's laughter, Varric's chuckling, or Leliana's wry smile. Even though the love she had found was beyond her comprehension, she was profoundly grateful for it—and it was far better than any book she had ever read.

***

Much to her surprise, Cassandra awoke alone. Morrigan's body was not pressed against hers, and the space where it should have been was cold and abandoned. She sat up, eyes scouring her small room, but in truth, there was nowhere Morrigan could have been hiding. If her lover wasn’t in bed next to her, then she wasn’t there at all.

Cassandra rose from the bed, and as she dressed, her mind drifted back over the previous night, trying to find some reason Morrigan might have left so soon. The memories were no help, although they did make her smile in spite of her concern. There had been a delicious amount of passion, and far more affection than Cassandra once would’ve believed possible, but no inclination that anything was wrong.

_ Could she simply be done with me? Corypheus is dead, after all. Perhaps she is moving on. _

The idea had the ring of plausibility, and yet as Cassandra made her way out into the cool air of Skyhold, she wasn't convinced. Once, certainly. But after the things they had said and done these last few weeks, she had to believe that what they had shared was more than just a brief affair. Morrigan loved her, and had said as much more than once. This was no simple abandonment. Wherever Morrigan had gone, she wasn't running away. She couldn’t be.

The courtyard was almost deserted so early in the morning. Only a handful of sentries were on duty, along with a few revelers still shambling back to their rooms after the previous night’s festivities. The latter group were unlikely to be of much help, and so she stopped a fresh-faced soldier on patrol nearby.

“Excuse me. Have you seen Lady Morrigan recently?”

If her voice shook slightly when she asked, the boy didn’t comment on it. “Yes, ma’am. Just a few minutes ago, headed toward the stables.” 

Cassandra nodded her thanks, hurrying across the grounds at a brisk pace. Maybe this was not what it appeared to be, but regardless, she couldn’t let Morrigan leave like this. Words were not her talent, but she still had to say something before she let the woman she had come to love walk out of her life.  _ I cannot believe she would do this, after everything... There must be another explanation. _

But she did not have time to ponder on it. She arrived at the stables, and a long sigh of relief escaped her when she saw a cloaked figure standing beside one of the paddocks.  _ Thank the Maker. Whatever she's doing, she hasn't left yet.  _ "Morrigan!" she called out, hurrying to join her lover.

When Cassandra shouted her name, Morrigan turned. "Ah, there you are. I was wondering when you would find me."

"Yes, but why did I find you here at the stables?" Cassandra asked, doubt gripping her heart. "Are you... do you intend to go somewhere?"

"I fear I must," Morrigan said. "In the early hours of the morning, I awoke to feel my mother's... presence... within me fade. Her hold over me has slackened, and I can no longer sense her."

Cassandra's eyes widened. "Has it vanished completely? Do you think you are free of her influence?"

Morrigan shrugged. "That I do not know, but I intend to find out. I cannot allow such a shift in power to go uninvestigated." She paused, and a soft smile spread across her face. "I am sorry to have left our bed so suddenly, but I was… disconcerted. T'was my intention to wake you before I left if you did not come searching for me first. You needn't have feared I'd flee from you for good."

Gratitude filled Cassandra's chest, nearly enough to make her melt. "So, you do not intend to leave immediately?" she asked, not bothering to conceal the hope in her voice.

"Not quite yet," Morrigan said. She hesitated, then reached out, linking their hands together. Her fingers were cold from the morning air, but Cassandra didn't mind. She was more than happy to share her heat. "In fact, I had thought to ask you to join me. I am aware that your position here is important, and—"

"Yes," Cassandra blurted out, not even thinking about her answer. "I do want to come with you. The Inquisitor can manage without me for a short time now that Corypheus has been defeated. But... are you certain you wish for me to do so?"

Morrigan stepped nearer to her, their bodies as well as their hands now pressing together. “I am. I have been accustomed to seeing to these matters by myself, but in this instance… there is no one else I would want by my side, Cassandra.”

“And there is no other cause I would rather lend my sword to than yours.”

“It is just as well you have agreed,” Morrigan smiled. “I had already saddled two horses.”

They were so close already that Cassandra barely had to lean in for a kiss. It was a burst of warmth amidst the chill, not just to her lips but to her heart as well. Some might have seen it as presumptuous that Morrigan had assumed she would want to come, but such thoughts were far from her mind. Cassandra had spent so many years focused on nothing but her duty, but now, she had something more, something she could only be grateful for. It might have been a mystery how she got there, but there was nowhere she would rather be than by Morrigan’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. We hope you all liked this story. It was certainly enjoyable to write, and in particular, the Cassandra/Morrigan romance was much more fun than we expected it to be. (If anyone else wants to write those two together, we'd be very interested in reading it) Thanks for reading, and for your comments, kudos, and all that.


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